Lost
by smilefromtheheart
Summary: **NEW EDITION** Hermione's dealing with a potentially fatal illness and everyone that can help is sinking into their own private world. And now she's been appointed Head Girl. Timeline: After the war. More details inside. Warning: anorexia/bulimia/cutting/mature language
1. Prologue

**This starts at the end of sixth year and goes into the seventh year. Dumbledore found all the horcruxes. Everyone who died in ANY of the books died here as well but the Battle took place at the end of sixth year.**

Normal. A word used rarely over the past year. After the battle that destroyed the darkest wizard known to man, goblins, giants, elves and half creatures; all of the student's had been sent home. There had been little noise, as everyone had either been sleeping or in a state of shock. Hermione Granger spent the entire ride staring out the window, trembling, even though the days were getting steadily warmer.

At King's Cross, there were relieved sighs and sobs coming from parents as they saw their child exit the train. Hermione greeted her parents with a long hug, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, honey. I'm so glad you're back," her mother, Deborah, cried.

The parents of Hogwarts' students had been sent a letter earlier that day informing them that Voldemort along with many students, staff, Death Eaters and other fighters had died and to "please be careful when talking to your child as it will take them a long while to move on". Those that had lost family were visited by the surviving staff to break the news, bring back the body and offer their condolences.

The Granger's stood on the platform for a few more minutes, until her father, Paul, put an arm around his wife's shoulders and set off to the car. Deborah pushed the luggage trolley, Hermione clinging onto her parent's sleeves, making sure they really were there, not just a figment of her imagination. She was placed in the back seat, Paul doing up her seatbelt.

Everything was just a hazy blur because she hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours and hadn't had much of the elaborate breakfast that had been sent to the common room.

Her door was pulled open and she robotically got out, heading straight for her bedroom, the one thing that hadn't changed over the year. The comfort of her bead put her to sleep in seconds, dreaming of various coloured lights flashing around her.

Hermione rolled over, glaring at her clock. Four-oh-three. In the morning. She groaned and pulled the purple pillow over her face. She hadn't slept as long as she'd hoped. Pulling back the sheet, she made her way to the bathroom. Switching on the light, she sat on the white tiled floor, alternating between watching her shadow and her reflection in the full length mirror. The sadness of losing Fred, Tonks, Dumbledore and Lupin grew into anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else, not even Voldemort or his Death Eaters, but at herself.

Ever since the Easter holidays when she was in Fourth Year, she'd been growing more and more self-conscious. Hermione hadn't expected her Muggle friends to have grown up so much in the short period of time that she'd been away at school. By the next holiday, she'd bought make-up, nearly a whole new wardrobe (Muggle and witch), had invested in the best de-frizzer sprays and gels, but the thing that had really hit her, was her weight. All of her female and even quite a few of her male friends were thinner than her. She didn't like that everyone looked better than her, so she'd gotten into a daily routine of exercising. After a few months of getting nearly no-where, she'd resorted to dieting.

When she looked up dieting tips on the internet, she'd come across a site called House of Thin. It had what she needed. BMI charts, model BMIs, tips, rules, chat rooms, everything. Then she found the photos. These people were very thin. They had bones poking out at all angles, all over their bodies. Some weren't as bad, but nearly all of them were thinner than she wanted to be. It didn't look healthy. They were called 'thinspiration' and fell under different categories; real girl, scenespo, model, celebrity and reverse. Reverse were photos of severely obese people to turn the viewer of eating.

Hermione, although a little revolted by the majority of the people, followed a few of the rules and tips. She started off cutting down her calorie intake to 1500 a day, with a half hour of exercise. By the time the Final Battle had come around, she'd fasted for a total of three months in three years.

"Hermione? Where are you?" She heard her mum call from down the hall.

Locking the bathroom door, Hermione readied herself for a shower.

Hermione stirred her cornflakes and milk with her spoon, round and round the bowl. Her appetite had shrunk dramatically since the Battle, and she couldn't bring herself to eat.

"Hermione, darling, please eat. You don't look too well," her mum pleaded from the other end of the kitchen bench.

Hermione looked up at her mum and answered, "I don't feel too well. I'm going to lie down for a bit."

Once up in her room, Hermione pulled her journal from underneath her bed. It was A5 sized with green, purple and black swirls on the front and back. The paper was thick and slightly brown with no lines. She'd stuck a new thinspiration in it every Monday, describing the girl's beauty, what that girl had that she didn't and why she wanted it. The first picture was of a girl who had a fairly regular body. The latest had thighs that barely touched.

_I feel like I'm falling further and further into an endless hole. Everyone else is at the top, not realising that there is a huge, gaping hope right near them. I wonder when they'll see it. Sometimes I don't want them to notice. I'll just fall quietly. Other times I want to scream, tell them they can still catch me. I haven't gone that far.  
But then I think, maybe mentally, I have gone a long way, but physically, I haven't. I'm always going between 10st and 9st weight, then getting it back, losing it again. An endless cycle. But this time is going to be different. I'm going to reach8st 9lb by the first day back. That gives me a little longer than the usual holidays.  
The Final Battle destroyed quite a bit of Hogwarts. We were sent home a month early because they were worried the castle was unstable. Most of the staff had to be taken to St. Mungos for their injuries. I hope everyone is ok.  
I think I might skip my exercises today, I'm just too devastated._

Hermione shut the journal and placed it under her bed, checking that it couldn't be seen from the doorway. She lay across the white shaggy rug in the middle of her room searching the internet for her latest role-model. After checking several sites, she came across a photo of a blonde girl flexing her arm. She had no flab and little muscle. Pure thin. Hermione bookmarked the page, shut the laptop and rolled onto her back.

"It's going to be a long break."


	2. Chapter 1

One more week. One more week until the train leaves.

A small tap on the window caused Hermione to look up from where she was lying on her bed, reading. Hedwig was gently flapping her wings, keeping herself in front of the window. Hermione quickly jumped up to let in the familiar owl.

Harry hadn't written to Hermione very much over the holidays, only once or twice. Hermione assumed that it was because he had been busy trying to help Ginny and Ron.

She untied the letter from Hedwig's leg before pulling out two small containers she kept in her room for water and food for the owl.

Hermione

I'm at the Burrow and no one here has gotten any kind of letter from school. Have you? We thought that maybe the owls had gotten lost, but Mrs Weasley thinks that the school is just having trouble keeping to schedule because of last year and having to sort everything out still.

If you have gotten your letter, did you get Head Girl? I think you would have and so does Ginny. Not sure about Head Boy though. Any thoughts?

Harry

Hermione stroked Hedwig's feathery back as she stood up to grab a pen and paper.

Harry,

I haven't received a letter from the school either, not even my book list. I'm becoming quite worried because there is only a week left. Usually I would have already been packed and ready for school at least two weeks ago.

I agree with Mrs Weasly saying that the school is having trouble coping after everything that has happened.

I'm not really sure who would be Head Boy. It could be you, Harry! Imagine if it was Ernie. We'd all love that wouldn't we?

Hermione

Ten minutes later a fed and watered Hedwig was on her way back to the Burrow, Hermione's letter tied to her leg.

As she watched the owl go, another brown speck rounded the corner, becoming larger and more visible as it approached.

The owl, obviously a school owl, swooped down and landed on the window sill. It hooted happily and waited for her to take the envelope. It was a little thicker than it had been in previous years and an odd shape was making a lump in the envelope. She eagerly ripped off the wax, pulling out a book list, uniform requirements, an extra letter and lastly, a shiny badge. The Hogwarts crest and the letters 'HG' in big bold letters covered the front of it. Unfolding the third letter, barely able to contain her excitement, Hermione read:

Hermione Granger,  
Due to your excellent grades and leadership skills, the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has chosen you to be the Head Girl.

We hope you will accept this position and we will be expecting a reply before August 27.

You will meet with the Headmistress and Head Boy on the train at eleven oh-five. You will then be given further instruction.

Yours sincerely,  
Professor McGonagall

Hermione ran down the stairs calling for her parents, letter and badge in hand. The house remained silent, except for Hermione's calls. She collapsed into the plush white lounges, watching the animals on the badge make small movements.

"Such a great accomplishment and no-one to celebrate with." Hermione's mind was a jumble of anger and sadness. The joy of being awarded Head Girl had left her.

At noon, she made herself a peanut butter sandwich. She sat at the kitchen bench, pulling the crust off and stacking it in a neat circle around the edge of the plate. The she tore away pieces of the sandwich, creating another circle inside of the first. She stared at her artwork for several minutes, contemplating on whether or not she'd eat it.

"Fuck this," she mumbled, as she jumped of the stool to throw away the offending meal.

"Honey, I'm home!" Hermione jumped at the voice.

Deborah appeared in the kitchen entryway, carry shopping bags.

"Where'd you go, Mum?" Hermione asked, eyeing off the groceries being placed in the fridge and pantry.

"Marnie called and asked me to look after the kids for a few hours and your father was into work. Didn't you see the note? It's next to the phone."  
Hermione spotted the yellow sticky note and read:

Hermione  
Babysitting for Marnie's kids. Will be back by 2 at least. Your father's gone to work. Don't forget to have lunch.

Mum

"Oh," she said, feeling silly.  
What's that you've got there?"  
Hermione picked up the badge. "Head Girl. I got the letter this afternoon. And I need to go to Diagon Alley for my books really soon.: She passed the badge over to her mum, who, being a Muggle, wasn't used to objects moving by themselves.

"Congratulations darling. We'll have to celebrate this. And I think we can get your books on Wednesday. Do you need a new uniform? What about casual clothes? DO you need socks?"

"I don't know, Mum!" Hermione nearly shouted. "Calm down, alright." She left the kitchen to start the long process of trying on clothes, putting each item in different categories, counting, recounting and eventually, packing.

After a couple of hours, Hermione shoved the unsorted clothes and objects off the bed and flopped onto it, exhausted. She stared up at the ceiling, counting the points of the glow-in-the-dark stars that her dad had put up when she was five. The more she stared at them, the more memories they brought back. Memories of before. Before Hogwarts, before the cutting, before the rock-bottom self-esteem. They weren't all good.

Irene Maple, a dark haired nine year old was sitting on the playground's merry-go-round while an eight year old Hermione was slowly pushing it around.

"Come one, Hermione! Go faster!" Irene was pushy in every aspect of life. "Faster, faster!"

The two girls had an odd relationship. They were best friends who got mad at each other so often that nobody could figure out why they were still friends. The reason was that they were both the odd person out. Irene was part African and children at school were becoming aware of the fact that she was different, so she didn't care when Hermione's witchery made itself known. Hermione had figured out a few basic ways to control it at an early age. Strong emotions tended to trigger it.

Hermione was fed up with the constant nagging and took a few steps back. She closed her eyes, gathering her anger. It wasn't hard. She opened her eyes and glanced at Irene on the merry-go-round. Slowly at first, bit with gathering speed, it went round, along with a stunned Irene. The screams she let out alerted their mothers that all was not right. The moment Hermione's mum noticed that the merry-go-round was working by itself, she grabbed her daughter's arm and dragged her home. That was the last time she'd seen Irene.

"I'll be fine, Mum. There's nothing to worry about now." Except for Death Eaters looking for revenge.

"Oh, I know, honey, it's just that my baby girl's all grown up. Your last year. Oh! I can't believe it. I love you, Hermione," Deborah replied, sniffling.

"I love you too, Mum." She gave both her parents a long hug and pushed her way through the tearful parents and anxious students to the train. After wiping away a tear, she went to find Harry and Ron.

"Ginny! Hey, Ginny! Gin-" Hermione stopped calling out when she noticed Harry step out of a nearby compartment, grab Ginny's hand and pull her inside. It seemed as though they'd made it through the summer. But now Hermione didn't know what to do. She didn't want to walk in on them snogging but there wasn't much else to choose from.

"Oh hey, Hermione." Neville stopped next to her. "I can't find any spare compartments up that end. Have you seen Harry or anyone? Maybe they have one already."

"Yeah, he's down there, in that one. But wait!" Neville had headed towards the compartment she'd pointed out. "He took Ginny in there, and, well, you know," she said, giving him a knowing look.

Neville turned red and glanced back at the compartment.

"Hermione, Neville! Over here!" Harry's head was poking out from the doorway.

Hermione grinned and ran over to where one of her best friends stood. She gave him a quick, tight hug, the shuffled past, joining a red faced Ginny. Hermione couldn't tell if it was from crying or kissing.

"Hey, Ginny. How are you?" she asked warily.

"'Morning, 'Mione. I-I'm not sure. It's all so confusing." A tear slid down the younger girl's face and Hermione took a seat next to her.

"Its okay, Ginn. It's going to be okay."

"I just don't know what to do anymore. Mum's always crying, Dad's rarely home. We haven't seen George since the funeral and Ron, well, he never talks to anyone. That's when he comes out of his room. I don't know how to deal with this, Hermione." Ginny shuddered and let a few more tears drop.

"Hey there, Ginny," said a sullen looking Neville. "Hermione, aren't you Head Girl?"

"Ye- Shit! I've got a meeting to go to!" Hermione jumped up. "Ginny, I'm so, so sorry. We'll have to talk later."

Ginny rubbed her eyes, and with a sob, replied, "Don't worry about it. Congratulations on getting Head Girl." She gave Hermione a weak smile.

Hermione paused at the door, glancing back at her friend, who was now being comforted by Harry. "I'm really sorry, Ginn. Well, I've got to go now. I get to find out who the Head Boy is now. See you all soon."

With that, she ran to the first carriage of the train. Engraved on the door in gold lettering were the words,

_Head Boy & Girl  
Prefects  
Meeting Room_

The inside of the carriage was decorated in all of the houses' colours. The school's crest was printed on the wall opposite where Hermione stood. Plush chairs and lounges littered the carriage, separated by dark tables holding jugs of pumpkin juice and plates of sandwiches. All the seats faced the oak desk placed at the front.

The carriage was already filled with Prefects. Professor McGonagall looked over the top of her glasses at Hermione.  
"We were starting to wonder where you'd gotten to, Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed and mumbled an apology whilst ducking to the nearest seat.

"Now we can begin. I'd like to start by introducing our Heads."

Hermione leant forward eagerly.


	3. Chapter 2

Of all the rotten luck. Hermione pinched herself several times, checking that she wasn't stuck in a nightmare. Why _him_? What had _he _ever done that was so good? He must have paid them. That's the only way McGonagall would have chosen him. But surely she wouldn't accept a bribe from Malfoy.

Hermione was rooted to the spot, her thoughts reeling.

"Miss Granger? Is something wrong?"

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of the Headmistress' voice.

"I'm fine. Sorry."

"I must say, you aren't making a very good first impression. Please, pay attention." Hermione lowered her head.

A snicker came from across the room. Draco Malfoy. The blonde ferret. Hermione snarled at the boy.

"Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger will make up a four week roster. There are three different shifts. The morning shift includes checking that everyone has left their dorms by eight thirty. The evening shift is to check that everyone is in their dorms and lights out at curfew. The last shift is the weekend shift. The people on duty will do room checks as well as organising mini-events for their houses.

"This year we're trying something new. We want to give the Heads more responsibility and that will start by them having to Hogsmeade trips." She looked over the top of her glasses at Hermione and Malfoy before continuing. "It's not a great deal of effort. You just have to choose dates and, along with the Prefects, keep the rest of the students in order, as there will be fewer professors accompanying you all."

A stack of parchment handed out two pages to each student.

"This has all the information you will need. If you have any problems, talk to the Heads. Oh, before you go, one last thing. If you are doing anything that sets a bad example, you will get a pink slip. Three of those and you get your post taken from you. That's all."

Hermione stood up to leave when McGonagall called her back.

"I have to talk to you two," she said, waving Malfoy back. "I know that the both of you know about separate bathrooms for Prefects, but there is also a dorm. It's only for the Heads. After the feast, the Prefects will show the first years to their dorms and I will show you to yours. You may go now. There's only five minutes until we reach Hogsmeade Station, so get into your school robes." She pointed at Hermione's Muggle outfit of dark jeans and a purple long sleeved shirt and Malfoy's black robes.

Hermione gave a slight nod in the direction of the professor and left the magnificent carriage, Malfoy hot on her heels.

"This is going to be interesting, Granger." Malfoy chuckled darkly and shoved her out of the way with his shoulder.

Hermione glared at the blonde and stalked off to where her friends were waiting. She entered the apartment to find Ginny and Harry curled into each other in the corner of the compartment, Ron in another corner staring out the window, and Neville trying to ignore the couple and depressed boy he was with.

"So who's Head Boy, Hermione?" Neville asked while opening a chocolate frog.

Hermione grimaced. "Malfoy," she spat.

The frog slipped out of Neville's hands and hopped away. Everyone in the compartment, including a silent Ron, stared at Hermione, stunned.

"You're kidding, right?" Neville asked nervously. Hermione shook her head.

"How, in the name of Merlin, are you going to deal with _that_?" Ginny managed to spit out.

"You must have been traumatised!" Harry scooped some sweets off the seat and held them out to Hermione. "Here, have some sugar. You're going to need the energy."

Hermione looked unsurely at the treats. There wasn't any way to get out of the Feast and it was surely going to put her intake over her daily limit if she accepted. She shook her head and stared out the window into the glossy black night.

"Please welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Winston." A middle aged man of average height with cropped brown hair stood up and a round of applause rang throughout the Great Hall. "Now, enjoy your meal." Professor McGonagall ended her short speech and sat down.

Hermione surveyed the food around her. Roast beef, chicken, and an assortment of salads and soups were the closest things to her. Meat was out, much too fatty. There was chicken, tomato, vegetable and lamb soup. The warm aroma caused Hermione to reach out and spoon tomato soup into her bowl. She held her spoon up to her lips savouring its heat.

"Is that all you're going to have?" Ginny asked a half hour later when Hermione set down her spoon.

She glanced cautiously up at her friend, unsure of her intentions. "Yes. Why?"

Ginny shrugged and went back to her plate of assorted food. Hermione shuddered at the food and looked away, up at the ceiling. It was hidden in heavy, dark clouds. Drops of rain fell, then disappeared before they got close to the people in the Hall. She grinned and looked back down at her friends. The awe of the Hall was never lost on Hermione.

A sharp clap pulled the attention of the chattering students to the staff.

"Before you all leave for your beds, I have one more announcement. That is, the Head Boy and Girl. Most of you have probably already found out but this year's Heads are Mr Draco Malfoy of Slytherin and Miss Hermione Granger of Gryffindor. Congratulations and goodnight." McGonagall nodded her head and walked to the front of the Hall to show Malfoy and Hermione to their dorm.

The three were silent on their long walk to the painting of a chipmunk lounging against a tree.

McGonagall turned to them with a stern look on her face. "I know this will be difficult for the both of you, but there is no reason for you to not get along. I know you will figure out your issues. Now, there is no password for this painting yet, but you will set that soon. Also, you have passwords for your rooms. To set them, all you have to do is tap, with the knuckles of you _left_ hand, three times on the _right_ of the frame and think your password and it will set itself. Goodnight." She strode between them and left.

"What shall the password be?" Hermione asked, trying to control the anger inside her.

Malfoy shrugged and stared at the painting. She rolled her eyes at him.

"You could at least try to be helpful!" she shouted in exasperation. "Fine, whatever. The password is going to be Bloomsbury." She tapped three times on the frame of the painting and thought the password.

The painting opened to reveal a hole in the wall, just small enough and high enough that Hermione knew that any way she tried to get in wouldn't look dainty. Sighing, she lifted her leg and struggled to maintain her balance as she climbed through. She hopped a few times on the leg that was already through the hole, then fell forward, flat on her face. Groaning, she lifted herself off the floor and gasped. She found herself in a huge, living room. On the left, a green and red three seater couch faced a roaring fireplace, along with two plush chairs, similarly decorated. A striped rug with gold and black tassels lay between the lounge and the fire. A floor to ceiling bookcase filled the wall that Hermione was standing against. On the opposite wall was a grand staircase, wide at the base and slimming at the top. To the right was a doorway.

Hermione entered the room and smiled. A modern straight line kitchen stood before her, coloured in white and red. The fridge and cupboards were filled with food. Plans to get out of eating began to form in her mind. She swivelled and found herself eye level with Malfoy's neck. She blushed and looked up into his stormy grey eyes. They widened, staring back, until Hermione straightened her robes and walked out of the room, trying to retain any dignity she had left. She climbed the stairs and turned right, heading towards the door that said Head Girl.

A four poster bed lay in the middle of the room with gold, silk pillowcases and red blankets covering it. There was an oak desk and chair set with an ink bottle and a notepad directly opposite the bed. A full sized mirror set in an oak frame rested on the wall to the left of the door and a dresser to the right. There was another door next to the mirror that led to a spacious white bathroom. It had a bath tub that was the size of a small backyard swimming pool with many different taps, a shower taking up the majority of the front wall and a bench and sink spread across the opposite side of the room, next to another door that presumably opened to Malfoy's room. A white porcelain toilet was tucked between the end of the bench and a wall.

Hermione's luggage lay at the end of her bed and she flicked her wand to put it all away. The clothes flew to the dresser and her books sat on her desk in a pile. She pulled out a pink short sleeved shirt and blue track pants. She quickly got dressed and ran down stairs to sit in front of the fire with her journal. Hermione lay on the floor and started to write.

_First day back at Hogwarts. It's nice to be back here. It's so comforting. I still can't believe I'm Head Girl. My dorm makes it harder to believe. It's absolutely amazing! I just can't figure out how I'm going to stand living here for a whole year with Draco Malfoy. No one is even sure how he came to be Head Boy. It's ridiculous. I understand McGonagall's point though. With Voldemort gone and his Death Eaters trying to kill Harry and anyone who has anything to do with killing Voldemort and his followers, the school needs to be stronger; otherwise anyone could get in and hurt us. I wonder if this will actually work. _

Hermione jumped as a slight noise broke her concentration. She looked up to see Malfoy walking across the room to the kitchen. He was wearing black track pants and a tight fitting shirt that stretched across his toned stomach. She got up off the floor and made her way back to her room, yawning. She climbed under the sheets, hoping for a peaceful sleep.

Hermione dressed in her white school shirt, black skirt and tie after taking a quick shower. She shoved her wool jacket into her bag with her books then made her way down the stairs. Malfoy was just about to leave and she called out to him.

"What do you want?" he spat at her.

Hermione glared back. "We have to make up to roster soon. I think we should do it today."

Malfoy mumbled something that sounded like, "Yeah, whatever," and left the room. Hermione narrowed her eyes and started off for the Great Hall.

She was once again met with the sight of Harry and Ginny not hiding their relationship, Ron not saying a word, but eating, and Neville still ignoring everyone and delving into the food placed before him.

"'Morning, Hermione. How's it living with the ferret?" Harry jerked his head in the direction of the Slytherin table.

Hermione shrugged and took a seat next to Ginny. "He doesn't talk much. It doesn't bother me at all." She grinned and poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"What does the dorm look like?" questioned Ginny.

"Oh, it's extraordinary!" She went on to explain the dorm in detail. "The kitchen-"

Ginny suddenly looked up and Hermione followed her gaze over to where Ron hadn't even glanced up at Hermione saying, 'kitchen.'

Hermione locked eyes with Ginny, who was most definitely worrying even more about her brother than she had previously. A bell rang and Hermione jumped up, ready for class. She'd already memorised her timetable.

Harry laughed. "What have we got?" he asked at the same time Hermione said, "Time for D.A."

Ginny frowned and pulled Harry's arm. He turned around and gave her a peck on the lips. "See you soon, Ginn."

"Hurry up, Harry. We're going to be late." Hermione frowned at him. She knew that she was jealous, but she also knew that it had nothing to do with Ginny and Harry being a couple, but more to do with the fact that Ginny had a boyfriend and she didn't. Hermione sighed and walked off to Dark Arts, Ron and Harry trailing behind her, completely silent. She rested against the wall outside the classroom, waiting for Professor Winston along with the majority of the large class. Just as the new professor rounded the corner, the Slytherins appeared around another corner. Hermione pushed herself of the wall and entered the classroom after her friends. She took a seat next to Lavender Brown who smiled at her, as though they were friends. Hermione smiled in what she hoped was a convincing manner before looking away.

"Welcome, all, to Defence Against the Dark Arts for the Seventh Years. I am Professor Winston and I hope I can help you all to pass your NEWTS with flying colours. I understand that you have had a different professor for every year. Quirrel, who was possessed by Voldemort, Lockhart, who was a fake, Lupin, a werewolf, Crouch Junior pretending to be Mad-Eye, Umbridge, who taught you nothing, and Snape, who killed Dumbledore. Most of them have ended up dead too. I hope I don't end up like them." He paused, obviously waiting for some laughter, yet the class remained silent. "Anyway," he continued, clearing his throat, "you may have noticed that Voldemort's 'chums' aren't too happy about his death. Those Death Eaters may come for revenge. I'm here to teach you how to defend yourself from them and, if necessary, attack. First for some theory," a groan escaped from the class, "and then we'll have a go at it." Winston flicked his wand and writing appeared on the board. "Page 25, Defensive Spells. Read the entire page and then have a go at all of the questions."

Hermione pulled out her books and quill and started to answer the questions, having already read most of her books before school started.

The morning block went by in a blur for Hermione. At lunch, the trio went to grab lunch from the Hall, then Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny went to sit outside in the warm sun.

"How was your morning, Ginn? Have you had Winston yet?" Harry asked his girlfriend.

The four were lounging on the grass. Hermione was lying on her stomach, watching the students walk by. Ron was sitting cross legged next to her eating a sandwich. Harry was also sitting with his legs crossed, but with Ginny's head in his lap.

"It wasn't bad. I'm so glad I don't have to take Divination anymore. It's made my life so much more bearable." She smiled up at Harry. "I think I have Winston this afternoon. Is he any good?"

"He's alright, but he likes to bag out our old professors. I don't think he knows what Snape did yet. In fact, I don't think he knows that Lupin passed either. It irritates me the way he disses everyone, but his teaching is good. He looks like the kind that has a dark side, so I'm not going to tell him. I'll leave it up to someone else. I've had enough trouble for a life time." He grinned and picked up a strand of Ginny's bright red hair, twirling it around his finger.

Hermione glanced in his direction, then at Ron, but she knew it was a bad idea. Both of them knew that they'd gotten over their crushes on each other after just a couple of months of dating the year before. It hadn't turned out well. It was awkward and unsettling. Hermione settled for boy scouting in the courtyard.

On her way to dinner, Hermione was intercepted by Malfoy, who wanted to know if they were going to make up the roster soon.

She glared at the boy. "Did you not listen to a word I said this morning?" she hissed. "I told you that we were going to make it up sometime today. Do me one favour, Malfoy?"

She paused for a moment, then continued when he raised an eyebrow, knowing she had the boy's attention. "Actually listen to what I'm saying to you. When I talk to you, it's because I want to actually keep my role as Head Girl, not because I want to make conversation. Listen for once in your life! When dinner's over, go straight to the dorm, alright? No side stops to visit your girlfriends or whatever. Straight there. We'll do it then." She huffed and strode to the Hall, trying to get all her anger out before she sat down. She needed her head if she was going to lie her way out of another meal.

She sat down on the bench and gathered a few pieces of lettuce, ignoring the cheese in the neighbouring bowl. She wrapped some carrot gratings in the lettuce and ate it as though it was a tortilla.

"Hermione," Ginny said after a mouthful of pasta, "Do you ever eat? Like, eat real food?"

Hermione scrambled for words. "What, carrot isn't real food?"

"Not the way you eat it. Are you okay? Are you coming down with something?"

Hermione sighed. "You're starting to sound like my mum, Ginn. I'm fine. I have a kitchen in my dorm so I can eat whenever I want." She was about to go back to her food when she paused, registering what Ginny had said. "What do you mean, 'the way I eat it'?"

"Look at your plate! It's all fallen out of the lettuce, so you aren't really eating it, are you? Are you sure you're alright, Hermione?"

"What do you want me to do, Ginn? Here, pick something and I'll eat it." Hermione instantly regretted it. She was surely going to choose something with a high calorie intake. She was right. Ginny grabbed a toasted cheese sandwich and sat it on Hermione's plate.

Hermione looked down at the sandwich. Pure fat. Cheese is filled with the stuff. A single slice of white bread could be ninety calories. Hermione glanced back at Ginny and knew she had to eat it, before she became suspicious. The smell was alluring and she couldn't help but eat it in a rush.

"Thanks, Hermione." Ginny grinned and went back to her own dinner.

Now that Hermione had started, she found it hard to stop. When the plates refilled themselves, she grabbed another cheese sandwich, along with a bowl of pasta. She ate it all just as quickly as she'd eaten the first sandwich. The dessert appeared and she took a glass of chocolate mousse, then a slice of ice cream cake and finally, a slice of banana bread. It wasn't until she'd stuffed the last crumb in to her mouth that she realised what she'd done. She froze in her seat, scared to move, to make it all real.

When everyone around started to get up to head back to their dorms, Hermione still sat in her seat. Suddenly, her mind set into motion and she dashed to the girls' bathrooms that nobody used. The one haunted by Moaning Myrtle. Kneeling over the closest bowl, Hermione shoved her fingers down her throat, forcing up her dinner. The bright yellow colour of cheese and butter eventually made its way into the bowl, and Hermione knew she was done. She slowly walked over to the basin to wash her hands and to get the bits of vomit out of her hair. The mirrors were covered in grime and she couldn't tell if she'd washed away the red in her eyes and cheeks. She gargled some water and spat it back into the sink.

"Is it a bug? A deadly bug? Are you going to die?" The unmistakable voice of Myrtle floated down around her.

"Nothing's wrong with me, Myrtle. I'm not sick anymore."

"Nobody ever asks if I'm sick. Never, ever, ever. It gets tyring asking if people are going to die when they walk in here, throwing up." Myrtle flew down to sit on the edge of a cubicle wall.

Hermione was stunned. "H-how are you going, Myrtle?"

"Oh, just swimmingly. Everything's fantastic when you're dead," she said sarcastically.

"That's great, Myrtle," Hermione replied, ignoring the sarcasm. "You said it gets tyring, right? So does this happen often?"

"It doesn't happen to too many people, but when it does hit someone, they're in here _all_ the time. Don't think I don't know what you're doing, little girl." Myrtle screamed and dove into her toilet.


	4. Chapter 3

Hermione strolled back up to her room, wondering if Myrtle was serious. By the time she reached the painting of the chipmunk, she'd decided that it was still safe to use those toilets in emergencies because Myrtle was unlikely to actually tell anyone what was going on.

She scrambled into the common room to see Malfoy sitting on the couch staring into the fire.

"Shit! Sor-" Hermione was cut short by the boy.

"No side stops to my 'girlfriends'. Straight here. So where were you?" Malfoy turned to look at Hermione, eyes burning into her skull.

She gulped. "I had to go to the bathroom, if you must know." She placed her hands on her hips, daring him to respond.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, which was seemingly going to become a signature move of his. "For a whole hour? No, you know what? I don't want to know. Let's just get this over and done with, Granger."

She sighed and went to grab some parchment and a quill from her room.

An hour and a half later, the two had finished the roster and had decided to ask McGonagall about when to hold the first Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione swished her wand and five copies of their final roster appeared in a neat stack next to the original.

"I'll give one to a prefect from each house and one to McGonagall in the morning and we'll keep one here." Hermione yawned and gave a small wave. "'Night." She climbed up the stairs with five of the sheets tucked under her arm. Once she was in grey track pants and a green tank top, she sat on the ground with her feet up against her desk and started her sit-ups.

"98, 99, 100." She lay on the floor regaining her breath, before she decided that twenty push ups on her toes would be a good idea, in case she hadn't thrown up all of her food. Fifty push ups and sixty crunches later, she crawled into bed and curled up under the cool sheets. She sighed and sank into sleep.

Hermione woke, breathing hard, from a nightmare. She sat up, trying to calm herself. After several minutes of sitting on her bed taking deep breaths, she got up to get a drink of water. As she passed her mirror on her way to the bathroom, she glimpsed herself. All she could see was that girl. She smashed the mirror in rage and gave a little yelp as the glass entered her hand. She sunk to the ground, sobbing, the nightmare replaying itself. Food everywhere and Hermione, unable to stop, kept eating. She watched on as the dream-Hermione ate and ate, until she got so big that she couldn't move. She was huge. Everyone laughed at her. At the fat girl.

She grabbed a sliver of glass from the broken mirror, and before she even realised what she was doing, the razor sharp edge had pierced her skin. Blood filled the wound and trailed down her arm. She watched on as the blood dripped to the ground, creating a small puddle on the floorboards.

This was a deep cut. Usually beads of blood appeared that would occasionally trickle down her arm, but they didn't pour out blood like this one was.

Chocked sobs still made their way to her lips as she gasped for air, and black spots started appearing in her vision.

A knock on the door startled her into awareness.

"What the fuck are you doing in there?" he shouted, obviously annoyed.

"Go away, Malfoy! I'm fine!" she tried to yell, but her voice was weak and came out as a whisper.

"I don't give a shit if you're fine; I just want you to shut up so I can get back to sleep!"

"Fuck off, Malfoy," she growled back.

"Oh-hoh! The mudblood swears." Hermione heard his fading footsteps and dark laughter. She sat on the floor, surrounded by glass and blood, breathing shakily.

"Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream." She tried to pull herself back to her bed, but her limbs wouldn't cooperate, so she grabbed a cushion that had fallen off her bed with her uninjured arm and lay her head on it. Blood kept falling from the self-inflicted cut, but she ignored it.

She couldn't close her eyes. Every time she shut them, she saw the picture from her dream. As she tried to block out the memory, she lost more and more blood. Within ten minutes, the black spots had filled her entire sight and had dragged her down into unconsciousness.

White walls, curtains and faded blue sheets. The hospital wing. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep. The dull pain all over her body made it impossible, so she played over the events of the past day. Her eyes flew open as she searched for a clock. Ten past six. She still had a few hours until classes started. She moaned loudly as she rolled over and an old witch with brown and grey curly hair rushed to her side frantically.

"How long have you been awake, Miss Granger?" Madame Pomfrey asked, inspecting the dressing on Hermione's left arm.

"A few minutes maybe."

She frowned. "You should have called for me immediately. Are you in any pain at all?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. Just a little bit of an ache, as though I've been here for a while. I don't need anything though, especially if it makes me fall asleep. I can't miss out on class."

"Miss Granger, you've been out for at least twelve hours. We aren't sure when you passed out but it's quarter past six at night."

Hermione was shocked. She stared at the nurse. "B-but- No! This is so stupid! I can't have missed out on a full day of classes! Agh!" She was pulling her hair and taking short, shallow breaths.

Madame Pomfrey grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her hair. "Deep breaths, Miss Granger, deep breaths. Good." She let go of Hermione and went back to checking her injuries. "Now, here's some dinner. Make sure you eat it all since you've missed out on a couple of meals." She twirled her wand and a tray of pasta, chicken soup and vegetables appeared by her bed. Another flick, and a goblet and a jug of water sat next to it.

"Could you fill me in?" Hermione asked, shakily, ignoring the tray. "Who brought me here? How did they get in my room? It's protected by a password, so there's no way a student could have gotten in." She was hyperventilating again.

"Deep breaths, calm down." The old witch waited a few moments. "Mr Malfoy brought you here. He didn't mention how he managed to get into your room, so you'll have to ask him about that. All we know is that your mirror was broken and you had glass embedded in your skin and that you fainted from blood loss," she informed her. "Would you like to explain?

Hermione looked down at the sheets. She had no idea how to answer that without anyone finding out her secret.

"That cut on-"

"Hermione!" shouted a familiar voice. Hermione's eyes flicked over to Harry and Ginny, whose hands were tightly wrapped around each other's. Hermione sighed, relieved that she had managed to escape the nurse's enquires.

"We've missed you," Ginny cried. "I'm so glad you're awake." She let go of Harry and hugged Hermione, sobbing into her shoulder.

Harry pulled out a box of Every Flavour Beans and placed it by her bed. "Hospital food isn't the best. Trust me on that one," he said, referring to his own injuries that had landed him in in the hospital wing. "And here's most of your homework." Harry dumped a stack of parchment on her bedside table. "One essay, two reports and two chapters have to be read. But you might have gotten homework for Ancient Runes and all those other ones so there could be more."

Hermione rifled through the homework looking for the names of the books. Chapter five of _Transfiguration: Level 7_ by Bethany Carslow and chapter three of _Potions for the Advanced _by Ginette Whittle. She smiled because she'd already read both of them.

After a few more minutes of chatter where no one, thankfully, brought up the subject of how Hermione had landed in the hospital wing,, Madame Pomfrey ushered them out to administer Hermione's medication. When she turned around, Hermione pulled out her wand to make her food vanish.

"When will I get to leave? There isn't really anything wrong with me, you know," she said, discretely placing her wand beside the vase on her overflowing bedside table.

"We'll reassess tomorrow. Although don't think you'll be going to classes until Thursday at the earliest. This medication will make those cuts completely disappear by morning, except for that deep one on your left arm. You'll be asleep for a while on this stuff. Give it about ten minutes and you'll be out cold. Tomorrow I want you to tell me what happened, but for now, goodnight."

Madame Pomfrey pulled the curtain around her bed before leaving Hermione to sleep.

She was right. In what seemed like seconds after Madame Pomfrey left, Hermione's eyes started drooping, which was followed only minutes after by the sounds of her deep breaths reverberating through the ward. It wasn't until four in the morning that Hermione woke. She decided to use the time to do small exercises. She lay flat on her bed, raised her legs, held it for fifteen seconds and repeated it ten times. She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come back.

Hermione was woken by the sun light streaming in through the window by her bed. The clock next to her bed said that it was seven thirty. Hermione looked out the window, watching the sun rise over the large mountains fencing in Hogwarts and the nearby villages.

"Okay, Miss Granger, are you, in any way whatsoever, in pain?" Madame Pomfrey had walked up to Hermione's bed.

Hermione shook her head hoping that she'd be allowed out. The old witch looked at Hermione, trying to figure out whether or not she was lying. Hermione smiled innocently and Madame Pomfrey sighed.

"Let me check the bandages before you go anywhere."

Hermione tried not to flinch when the nurse poked a tender spot.

"Your cuts have healed nicely. It looks as though you can go to your classes tomorrow if you want, but for now, just relax. Don't do anything that might hurt. Make sure you have breakfast as soon as you get back to your dorm. Alright, you may go. Here are your clothes." She pulled the curtains around the bed so Hermione could change.

Hermione pulled off the nightgown and got back into her grey bottoms and pink top, silently celebrating that the old nurse seemed to have forgotten to ask her how she had ended up with glass embedded in her body. She folded the papery cloth of her nightgown, picked up the Beans and the homework and dashed out of the hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey could remember. The many staircases that kept moving did nothing to help her plan to get up to her dorm before the students headed out to breakfast. The sound of loud voices made Hermione hide behind a statue of a lady with her nose in the air. She watched as Parvati and Lavender passed by her, gossiping.

"Hey, does anyone know where Hermione is yet?" Parvati asked.

"I don't know. It's weird isn't it? That she goes missing after one day of living with Malfoy. I wonder what happened to her." The two giggled and changed subjects.

Once the girls were out of sight, Hermione ran up to her dorm, laughing at the thought of being gossip. She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of frozen water and collapsed onto the lounge. While she waited for the water to defrost, she decided to start on the essay for Potions. She lay stomach down on the floor facing the heat of the fire.

By one o'clock, she had finished the essay and had started on another one, this time for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She yawned and rested her head on her arms, closing her eyes. Sleep came quickly.

Hermione's eyes opened to a darkened room. She checked the grandfather clock that rested next to the staircase. It was now eight-twenty. She blinked a few times, amazed at how much she had slept in the past forty eight hours. Her hand brushed against soft parchment and she remembered that she'd been doing her homework, moments before she fell asleep. A groan fell from her lips as she sat up, her stiff body protesting from the movement.

"You're awake." Hermione looked around, startled. Seeing Malfoy reminded her of something that Madame Pomfrey had told her.

"How did you get into my room? They're meant to be protected by passwords. Tell me!"

Malfoy stood behind the lounge, staring. Hermione jumped up off the ground, striding towards him.

"How the _hell _did you get inside my room, Malfoy?" she hissed. Her eyes turned into slits as he stayed still.

"Shouldn't you be thanking me? I might have saved your life. Why I did it is still a mystery to me, so don't even ask." He turned his back on Hermione.

She climbed onto the couch and grabbed his arm, whipping him back around. "I said, 'tell me'."

His emotionless face turned into that of an enemy's. "_Hogwarts: A History. _Possibly the easiest password to guess, Granger. Next time, don't use a book title."

Hermione felt her face go red at Malfoy implying that she had done something dumb. Her grip loosened and he shook his arm free. "You guessed your way in? What, you went through every single book you know of?" He shrugged which Hermione took as a 'yes'. "What made you think I needed, er, help?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Besides the screaming, the crying and the swearing in the middle of the night? Or the fact that there were five minutes until class and you hadn't even walked out of your room?"

She looked down at the lounge. "I- I guess I do have to thank you." She looked back up, meeting his eyes. "So thank you. But I'm going to change my password first thing tomorrow."

She waited until Malfoy walked into the kitchen before sagging down into the lounge and staring into the flames of the fire. Malfoy had done something helpful, something that could be considered nice. That is, if breaking into someone's room was considered nice.

Hermione ran her hands over her face and through her hair, letting out another groan. She dragged herself off the lounge, grabbed her belongings and made her way back up to her room, aware that she had been partially visible to Malfoy who was still in the kitchen. She sat at her desk, reorganising her drawers; the top one for her school notebooks, the second for quills and ink and the third for her rarely used make-up and hair products. She was jittery, having slept for so long and she started to pace around her bedroom. She wanted to go for a run, but didn't want to deal with anyone if she got spotted, so kept to her room.

When her clock reached eleven thirty and she still hadn't calmed down enough to sleep, she took the first book that touched her hands and entered the bathroom. She filled up the pool-sized tub, yanked a towel off the rack and sank into the warmth. The book she had taken with her was _Muggles: The Other Side _by Louis Sparkinstare. It was one of the books she'd only partly read through, so she opened it up to chapter three, _Wars Without Magic_, and started to read.

By the time she was done, her eyes were heavy with sleep and a slit of light had snuck through the window. She hopped out of the tub, wrapped the towel around her and crept back into her room with her dirty clothes. She pulled out a set of pale blue, silk pyjamas and slid them on, shivering at its cold touch.


	5. Chapter 4

The slamming of the portrait downstairs woke Hermione. Seeing that it was light outside, she rolled out of bed and tugged on her uniform, wrapping herself in her jacket. Winter was definitely on its way. She stood in front of her mirror, trying to tame her hair enough so that it'd stay in a braid, then ran downstairs, shoved a water bottle in her bag and left the dorm.

Once she was on the main floor, she noticed that the students were heading away from the Hall, as though breakfast had just finished. She spotted a bright red head and made her way over to it.

"Hermione, you're here!" Ginny let go of Harry's hand to hug Hermione. "Malfoy wouldn't let us in. He said you were sleeping and that we didn't have the right to be in there anyway, the bloody bastard." The snarl fell from her face and was replaced with a grin. "Oh, I'm so glad to have you back."

The corners of Hermione's mouth turned up slightly. "Sorry about that. I was actually sleeping. If I'd known you were there I would have let you in."

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You never ended up telling us how you wound up in the hospital wing, and Madame Pomfrey wouldn't say either." Hermione's insides froze at her friend's words. This conversation wasn't one that she had been looking forward to. "People have been spreading all these horrible rumours, saying that Malfoy hurt you. They're getting out of hand. One was that he sent a Death Eater to kill you, but you'd have to be pretty daft to believe that one." A sudden grin lit up Harry's face. "No Death Eater could hurt Hermione Granger. You're way too smart for that."

Hermione smiled at the boy's praise, momentarily forgetting the original question.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked. "You can tell us anything, you know."

"I'm alright. I just- It's just _dumb_, what happened to me, that's all." She took a deep breath, stalling. "I'm just so clumsy, being in a room that I don't know. I woke up in the night with a head ache and I went to get a drink but instead of opening the door I kind of hit my mirror and it smashed. There was glass in my hand and on the floor but I wasn't thinking of that and I lay on the floor and more glass cut me. I passed out from blood loss." She drew in another sharp breath, hoping that her half-truth was good enough to convince her friends that she truly was fine.

The expressions of two of the people she cared about most in the world were not what she expected. Slight smirks lay across their faces, rather than those of concern.

"I told you it was stupid," she said, looking down at the ground, but unable to hold back her own smile at her quickly spun tale.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, causing Hermione to look back up. "It's just that now we know that you're conscious and back in classes, it's, well, a little funny. It's not like you at all, though, to go smashing your way through mirrors."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" She looked around, desperate for a change in conversation. "Where's Ron?"

Ginny looked at the floor and shook her head, turning her body into the side of Harry's.

Harry wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, looking over her shoulder at Hermione.

"We don't know. Besides classes and in my dorm, I rarely see him. I don't think he's coping too well with Fr-" He was cut off by a particularly violent sob from Ginny.

Hermione watched as Harry turned his head to whisper something to Ginny, who clung to him even tighter.

The bell trilled and Hermione was torn between going to class and staying to comfort her friend in her time of need.

Harry barely looked over to Hermione when he said, "Tell Flitwick that there was an emergency?"

Hermione frowned. "Flit- you mean Winston?"

This time Harry lifted his head to look directly at her.

"Hermione, we have Charms. Lunch just finished. Did you only just wake up?"

She hesitantly nodded and looked out the windows. The sun was coming through in a different angle. "Huh. Guess I shouldn't stay up so late anymore. It's kind of like having jet lag. See you later, then."

Hermione walked to Flitwick's classroom alone. Other students dawdled by, not worrying about getting to class on time. Occasionally someone would call out a 'hello' to her, or would ask her where she'd been, which she'd reply to with, 'just been a little bit ill, but I'm fine now.'

As she neared the classroom, she walked faster, eager to escape the questioning looks from her peers.

Sh collapsed into her seat to find her table nearly empty. With Harry gone, there should have been two others besides Hermione. Ron was nowhere to be seen, but Neville had turned up to his second favourite class. Before either of them had a chance to ask the other where the missing boys were, Flitwick cleared his throat and started to speak in his squeaky voice.

"Books out and answer the questions on page eleven. The quicker you do it, the sooner we can practise."

The rustle of people getting books and quills out of bags was the only noise as everyone was anxious to get out their wands.

_What is the incantation when using the Vanishing Spell? _Scrawling the word Evanesco, Hermione smiled. She'd used this spell constantly to get rid of food off her plate the previous year. She raced through the questions, double checked her answers and was finished before anyone had even looked up from their books. She pulled out her journal from her bag and started a new entry.

_Today is Thursday. I went into the hospital wing late Monday night/early Tuesday morning and I haven't been to school until today and I managed to sleep in and miss out on it. I think the reason no one went looking for me this morning was because they didn't think I'd be back at school so soon. Everyone thought Malfoy had hurt me. It's funny because he was the one who took me to Madame Pomfrey. I have no idea how he managed to carry me the whole way there without dropping me. He says he doesn't know why he helped me and that I'm not allowed to ask, but I'll get the answers from him someday. I haven't eaten since dinner on Monday but I don't know what I might have been given when I was unconscious so I'm not counting any of the time I was in hospital as a fast. So that means I've been fasting since Wednesday morning. Not bad. I wonder if there's any scales in the bathroom. We had some in the Gryffindor bathroom so there should be some in my new dorm. Flitwick is calling us to start practising the spells we just learnt. This should be fairly easy._

She shoved the journal back in her bag and got out her wand.

"I'll expect a fifteen inch essay on the difference between chesinkta and lilypot by Monday," Professor Sprout called over the voices of the students. "And, no, Mr Thomas, the spelling does not count as an acceptable difference."

Hermione wrote the homework down on a piece of parchment, brushed the dirt off her book and made her way back to the castle. She paused in the doorway, deliberating between lying her way out of dinner or skipping it completely. After several minutes, she chose the latter and climbed the staircases to the dorm. She shrugged her bag off her shoulder and let it fall to the ground with a thud in front of the fireplace. Pulling out her books, she started on her most urgent homework. The Potions essay she had started and a report for Transfiguration were due on Friday.

She had them finished before Malfoy had gotten back so she went into the kitchen to make some food vanish so it would look like she was eating, not that he'd be watching to make sure, but it had become a habit of hers. She pulled out four pieces of bread and slathered them with peanut butter, then opened a can of soup. She vanished the food and put a clean bowl and plate under the water and then placed them in the drainer. She stepped back to take a look at her work and grinned. It really did look as though she had just finished a meal and washed her dishes.

Stepping back into the lounge room, Hermione saw Malfoy climbing through the small hole. She grabbed her bag and ran up the stairs, anxious to get into her room before he saw her.

"Granger."

She closed her eyes. _Damn it. _Slowly she turned to face him and opened her eyes. "What?"

"We have to organise the Hogsmeade trip. Come down here."

Hermione huffed. "Don't you dare order me around. I'm not one of your house elves so stop treating me like one." She tucked her fringe behind her ear and turned back to her room to put her books away. She waited five minutes before walking downstairs.

"Now, if you are ready to treat me like a human, we can get started."

"Hypocrite," Malfoy mumbled, just loud enough for Hermione to hear.

She sighed, realising her mistake. "I'm sorry, but your attitude is rubbing off on me. Are we going to start on this or what?"

The two sat on opposite sides of the living area.

"I think we should have it next weekend. This one is too close and we haven't asked McGonagall yet." Hermione nodded at his suggestion. "Is there anything else we need to do before we go to McGonagall?"

"No, I don't think so. After, though, we'll have to tell the Prefects, make up notices to go on the House's boards, but I think that's it. That was easy." Hermione jumped off the couch and froze. She glanced back at Malfoy, then up at her room. She'd forgotten to ask if she could change her password. "Look, I've got to see McGonagall now for something so I'll ask her about Hogsmeade. You can come if you want."

He paused for a moment, considering. Finally, he nodded and followed her out of the room. They walked down a flight of stairs and along a number of corridors before stopping at the staff room. Hermione knocked three times on the wooden door then stepped back.

"Hello, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. Would you like to speak to someone?" Professor Sprout greeted them.

"Good evening, Professor Sprout. Could we talk to Professor McGonagall?" Hermione answered.

"Let me go and find her." Sprout shut the door and left the two in the hallway.

Hermione played with her jacket buttons, glancing up at the door every so often. The flickering light in the corridor lit up her skin in strange patterns and she breathed in sharply as she rubbed her hand where the most noticeable of her scars were. The slightly raised ridges went in all different directions on both the back of her hand and her palm. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Malfoy watching her. Ignoring him, she looked at her hand in the light, glad to see that the scars were a very light shade of pink, barely visible to those who weren't paying attention. She counted the discoloured patches on her right hand. Six long lines that would hopefully disappear before the school year finished.

The door creaked opened and McGonagall stepped out of the staff room. "Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger, what is it that you would like to talk to me about?"

"We were wondering if we could plan a Hogsmeade trip for next weekend. Is that okay?" Malfoy nodded in agreement.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "I'll have to check the staff calendar, see who can go. I'll tell you tomorrow. Is that all?"

Hermione shook her head. "I need to get a new password for my room." She blushed and Malfoy looked down the hallway.

McGonagall's mouth twitched into a half smile. "I heard about that little incident. Make sure you use something less obvious, Miss Granger. Knock three times on the doorframe, just as you did your first night and say 'cheese sticks', then just think your password. It won't work again though; you'll have to get a new word from me to reset your password. Goodnight." She turned and disappeared behind the door.

Hermione and Malfoy walked back up to their dorm, silent again. They passed Ernie trying to usher a crowd of first years into their common rooms.

"Hang on." Hermione marched over to the crazed group. "Would you like me to deduct points from your house? What have we got here? Three Ravenclaws and four Hufflepuffs. So that will be-" She broke off when the group went silent. "Follow Ernie's instructions or I won't be so generous next time. Now off you go."

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs split up and dashed to their common rooms.

"I could have done it myself, Hermione," Ernie muttered, glaring at the floor.

She shrugged. "First years are hard to deal with. Be glad I helped. I just saved you a lot of trouble." She strode back over to where Malfoy stood, obviously amused with the situation.

"Didn't think you'd threaten a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds," he said, as they continued back up the stairs.

"What? They're a pain and rarely respond to, 'Go to your room' when it's a parent telling them, so why would they if Ernie told them?"

Malfoy smirked at her defensive words.

"Oh shut up. Bloomsbury." The chipmunk climbed up the tree and the painting swung open. Hermione scrambled through and headed for her room. She did as McGonagall had instructed her and whispered, "Cheese sticks," feeling absolutely ridiculous, then thought up a new password. '_Stand in the Rain' _she thought. It was the name of a song she'd heard on the radio a few times.

She went into the bathroom and turned on all the hot water taps and the tap marked coconut. She pulled off her clothes and lowered herself into the steaming tub. She'd been in the bath for over half an hour, letting the hot water relax her muscles, when a rap on the door disturbed her.

"Hurry up, Granger! You're not the only one who uses this bathroom, you know," came the agitated voice on the other side of the wall.

Hermione smiled and took her time getting out of the tub then picking up her things. Back in her room, she changed into black flannelette pyjamas with bright red cherries on them. She walked back downstairs to grab a bottle of cold water and sat on the red and silver stool at the bench. She was joined shortly by Malfoy warming up a plate of sausages and vegetables. The smell of the food wafted through the microwaves vents, making Hermione crave something, anything, to eat. She shut her eyes and swivelled on the stool, trying to ignore the voice inside of her telling her to eat. _'The start is always the hardest, Hermione. Just ignore it. Keep going.'_ She took a swig of water and hopped off the stool, eager to get away from the food.


	6. Chapter 5

_I'm feeling a little dizzy, a bit shaky too. I haven't had anything to eat since Tuesday night and it's now Sunday. It's a pretty decent fast, if you ask me. I am so exhausted! It's only afternoon, though, and I don't want to go to sleep in case I sleep for a very long time and can't sleep tonight and end up even more tired tomorrow. I'll do my homework after. I didn't get a very good sleep last night, what with Malfoy not coming back until the early hours of the morning. It took me forever to get to sleep, then the doors banged and I woke up and have only had a few hours of sleep. I could kill him for that. I wish he would stop going to all those stupid parties, otherwise I'll never be able to get a full night of sleep._

A loud crash startled Hermione and she looked up to see a familiar red head amongst a pile of books at the other side of the table she was seated at. She snapped her journal shut and slid it into her bag before going over to her friend.

"Are you alright there, Ron?" she asked him, holding a hand out to pull him up.

He grunted and ignored her hand, pushing himself up off the floor. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, not even looking up when Madame Pince came over.

"Quiet! This is a _library_!" she stage-whispered. "I'll throw you out next time. And clean up that mess you've made."

Hermione started to pick up the books that had fallen from where they had been precariously stacked to the ground when Ron had bumped into her desk. Once they'd all been returned, she looked at Ron. He still refused to meet her eyes, but she could tell from the grey under his own that he hadn't had a good sleep for a while.

"Ron, what's the matter?" She paused, waiting for an answer, but he didn't say anything. "You know that you can talk to me about anything, don't you, Ron? I'm here for you. Always will be."

Ron peaked out from underneath his hair up at Hermione. She could see his bloodshot eyes and red face, as though he's been crying for a very long time.

"Let me just pack up, then we'll go somewhere and have a talk," Hermione said, already sweeping her belongings into her bag.

Ron stood around awkwardly as he waited for her to return most of her books, not offering to help.

The two walked through the castle and out onto the grounds, Hermione laden with the books she had decided were necessary for her school work. She constantly glanced up at Ron, trying to read his expression but all she got from it was that he was tired and sad, and he made no move to initiate the conversation.

They'd reached the edge of the grounds and were turning to head towards the quidditch pitch before a word was spoken between the two.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Ron mumbled.

Hermione stopped walking to gather her best friend into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry that he's gone and I'm sorry that I don't know how to make you feel better." A tear slid down her cheek and onto Ron's shoulder. "What can I do to help you? Because that's what I want to do. I will do anything, absolutely anything to make you feel better, Ron, because I can't stand seeing you like this."

She felt Ron loosen his hold on her and she pulled away but gripped his shoulders, keeping him close.

"I don't know, Hermione," he said after a long pause.

"I can tell you this. No one would ever wish for someone to still be mourning their death for so long. Anyone with a good heart would hope that their friends and family would be able to move on after a little while, just not forget them completely. They would want them to be happy, Ron! Please, just remember the happy moments."

Hermione tried to look into his eyes, but he turned away from her.

"Is there someone that you could talk to that would be able to make it better? In the muggle world there are people that we go to if we're having problems, and they're trained to help us feel better."

"Really?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, really. Would you go to one of them? Or a wizard equivalent?"

Ron bit his lip and she could see him deliberating between talking over his problems with a stranger and staying in the dark place he had found himself ever since Fred's death.

"Where are these people?" he asked her.

"Well, I'm not sure, but there's probably some in St. Mung-" She stopped talking at Ron's wide eyes.

"Healers? I've never heard of healers that just talk to people to make them better. I don't want to talk to a healer. I don't want to go to St. Mungo either. I hate that place."

Ron shrugged off her grip on his shoulders and turned to leave.

"But, Ron-" she tried to say.

Ron turned his head to look at her for a moment. "It's ok, Hermione. It doesn't matter."

"Ron, they're not really doctors, or healers! They're just-" She cut herself off with a growl of frustration when he had moved out of earshot.

She swung her bag onto her other shoulder and slowly made her way up to her room, hoping that Malfoy had some other business, because she definitely could not deal with depressed Ron and nosey Malfoy all in one afternoon.

Just as she was about to murmur the password to the painting of the chipmunk, she heard a slight noise behind. Someone was talking and it most definitely was not a boy. Pansy Parkinson, with her unmistakable high-pitched voice, yelled out, "Why are you doing this?" Then, leaving no time to answer, she went on. "What good will come out of this, Draco?"

Hermione heard Malfoy sigh then say calmly, "I'm not doing anything to you. I just want you to know that I have no desire to be with you. We weren't ever really going out so I don't see what the big deal is. And before you even ask, I'm not going after someone else. Have you seen the people at this school?"

There was a slight pause and Hermione pressed her ear up to the wall next to the painting so as not to bother the chipmunk.

"You'll pay for this, Malfoy." She sniffled, then laughed darkly. "Oh, you'll pay."

Footsteps came closer to where Hermione was standing and Hermione ran down the hall a bit and then turned so it'd look as though she'd just gotten there. The painting slammed opened and into the wall. Parkinson made sure to knock Hermione roughly in the shoulder as she passed her. Hermione regained her balance and glared at her but decided to leave it. Parkinson was double the size of Hermione and would surely pummel her to the ground.

Hermione walked into the common room to find Malfoy sitting on the lounge with his head in his hands. Her kind, forgiving side felt the need to comfort him but her intelligent side knew that it was a bad idea, as she'd have to admit to eavesdropping, and that was something that a Head Girl should most definitely not be doing, so she left him in peace.

Up in her room, Hermione opened her books but couldn't concentrate on her work with her and Ron's conversation playing through her head like a broken record, so she turned up her radio and lay on her bed. Before the first song had even finished she was asleep.

Hermione shivered then woke. She was still in her jeans and jacket from Sunday. The clock beside her bed told her that it was twenty past twelve. She undressed then decided to take a shower to warm up. After staying in there for an hour, she climbed out and hurriedly dressed in her warmest track pants, shirt and jumper. She pulled on a pair of fluffy blue socks and crawled back into bed, covering herself in several blankets.

Every time she was nearly asleep a noise jolted her into awareness. Not being able to stand the constant awakening she grabbed the book on her bedside table and went to sit in front of the fire. After going through a chapter of _Life as a Muggle_ and not remembering any of it, she went into the kitchen to warm up some soup. A minute and a half later she sat back near the fire, clutching her soup with shaking hands. She pulled her track pants over her feet and curled into a ball. The fire, flickering in front of her, warmed Hermione's face. She lifted the mug to her lips, entertaining the thought of its contents scalding her tongue and throat. She stayed in that position, mug to lips, eyes staring into the pits of the fire until a sliver of light peeped in through the window overlooking the Forest. Hermione knew it would look suspicious if she was caught downstairs at this time of morning so went to pour out her cold soup and get dressed, grabbing her abandoned book on the way.

The morning's classes went by in a blur and before she knew it, it was lunch time and she was sitting next to harry in the Great Hall.

Stomach rumbling and eyes drooping, Hermione folded her arms and rested her head in them. The sounds of Ginny, Harry and Seamus chatting faded as sleep took over.

"Hermione, wake up!" a voice called through the haziness of her dream. "Hermione!" the voice called again.

Hermione groaned and lifted her head off her arms to see the alarmed faces of her friends starring at her. She rubbed her eyes before grasping what had happened.

"I can't believe I fell asleep at the table," she said, stifling a yawn.

Ginny laughed, trying to ease the tension. Maybe you should lay off the late night studying."

Harry shot Hermione a look of concern.

"Oh, calm down, Harry. Ginny's right, I just have to get more sleep. There's nothing wrong with me, honestly." She gave Harry's arm a little whack for good measure.

"Well, if you say so," he responded after a moment, "here, have some chicken.' He pushed the platter over to Hermione but she just stared at it.

"I-I just remembered, I have to finish off an essay. I've got to go to the library.' She jumped up and grabbed her book bag. "Bye!"

As she walked away from the table she heard Ginny call out to her. "You haven't eaten any lunch, though!"

Hermione ignored her and made her way to the safety of the library. It was deserted except for Madame Pince who was waving her wand a stacks of books so they'd put themselves away.

"Don't you bring your sticky fingers in here, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at her hands. "It's okay, they're clean." She spread her hands.

Madame Pince huffed and went back to putting away books.

Hermione found herself a seat where the warmth of the sun streamed through then windows. The plush blue chair was hidden behind a bookshelf in the very back of the library. She curled up in the chair and closed her eyes, relishing the warmth on what would usually be a cold, windy day. The urge to get up and find something to eat or drink was nearly unbearable, but she didn't have the energy. A nearly sleepless night and next to no calories in her system where taking their toll. A wave of dizziness and nausea flooded her body. She tilted her head back and stretched out, wishing away the horrible feelings.

The trilling of the school bell forced Hermione to open her eyes. Glancing up at the clock, she realised that she'd missed her free period. Doing her best to ignore the protests of her body, she stood up and made her way to Herbology. Despite the fact that she'd been walking slowly, she managed to be the first person there. Closing her eyes, she rested against a wall for a few minutes. When she opened her eyes the rest of the class had gathered and Professor Sprout let them into the greenhouse.

By the end of the day Hermione had been given 3 chapters to read, 2 lots of questions to be answered and two essays, all to be completed before the week was finished. She'd been hoping to go and visit her friends in the Gryffindor tower before dinner but she knew she'd have to get started on her homework sooner rather than later, so she walked past the familiar staircase and made her way to her own common room. She set herself up in front of the fire, which, she realised, was becoming traditional.

"Granger," said a voice from behind her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mm?" She kept working through Sprout's essay.

"Since you're better and everything, I think you should take up your part as head Girl."

Hermione placed her quill in the ink pot and turned around, trying to keep calm.

"Are you saying, Malfoy, that I'm not doing my job?"

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. He leaned against the kitchen doorway. "No, I'm just saying that you haven't patrolled the halls. I've organised people to take your previous duties but I think you can manage tonight."

"Whatever." She turned back to her essay. She hadn't completely forgiven Malfoy for letting Death Eaters into the school the previous year, even if he had been threatened. They'd hurt and killed people that she cared about.

Hermione focused on her parchment. Her head swam and she had to force her upper body to stop swaying. There was no way she could make it two or three hours of patrolling halls and ushering the first years, who, even a month in, were still extremely excited to be at Hogwarts, to their common rooms.

Slowly, Hermione walked over to the kitchen. She inspected the cupboards and fridge. Her best options were apples, grapes or carrots. She was about to take a carrot when she remembered that she had to go down to dinner and also had to eat something there. She shut the fridge door and instead got herself a glass of tap water. After sculling a second glass she placed it in the sink and headed down to dinner, ignoring the homework she'd left out.

As she'd left about a half hour before dinner started, she found a secluded staircase and sat, head in hands. Horrible hunger pains shot through her stomach. She needed food, and soon.

The noise of students going to the Hall got Hermione up off the stairs and walking towards the main object in her mind. Food. Clusters of people walked through the castle chatting loudly, hurting Hermione's head. As she got closer to the hall, the noise got louder and her headache became more painful. She rested against a wall around the corner from her dinner. A few people shot her glances but most walked by without noticing her. She kept her head down, hoping no one would approach her. Her luck held out.

When she was sure that everyone had left the halls, she sank lower down the wall onto a little ledge. Frustrated with herself self for not being able to go to dinner, annoyed that she'd drawn attention to herself for it and hurting, tears sprung to her eyes. She slipped off the ledge and onto the floor, one hand clutching her head, the other her stomach. Hermione didn't look up as footsteps approached. They paused.

"I'll get someone else to take your shift."

Malfoy left before Hermione could thank him.

Hermione lay in her bed wrapped up in her warmest blankets, yet she couldn't stop shaking. She knew that all she needed to do was to go down to the kitchen and grab something to eat or drink that contained calories, but she couldn't. It wasn't because she'd used her last bit of energy to get into warm clothes but because it frightened her, even though she didn't know why.

Meal times on Tuesday were a disaster. She couldn't make herself go down to the Hall. She didn't leave for Potions until the last minute saying that she'd slept in and spent lunch in the library in her knew favourite spot supposedly researching information for a made up Ancient Runes report. At dinner she stayed in her room curled up under the covers promising herself that she'd actually _try_ to go to all of her meals on Wednesday.


	7. Chapter 6

Hermione woke early and took advantage of the free bathroom, relaxing in the bath until Malfoy banged on the door.

"You're not the only one living here, Granger!" he yelled through the door.

Hermione bit back a rude remark, reminding herself that he'd been nice to her, getting Zacharias Smith to fill in for her and he hadn't even mentioned her breakdown.

She wrapped herself in a fluffy red towel, gathered her clothes and walked back to her room, unlocking the bathroom door on Malfoy's side with a flick of her wand as she went.

Fifteen minutes later she was downstairs in her uniform, hair in a French braid and book bag slung over her shoulder. She hesitated behind the painting for a moment before mentally slapping herself.

Walking towards the Hall she could feel her pulse rising. She paused at the top of the last staircase telling herself that she had no reason to be worried about going to breakfast. There was nothing to be feared. She put on a brave face and moved on.

"'Morning, Hermione," Ginny greeted her, looking up from her scrambled eggs.

"Hey," Hermione replied, taking a seat across from her, next to Ron. Harry and Ron turned away from their breakfasts for a few seconds to say hello to Hermione, and everyone was more shocked to hear Ron talking again then to see Hermione at a meal that they didn't focus on her, but instead encouraged Ron to keep talking. He didn't say a lot, but as it was more than anyone had heard him say since they'd arrived, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were extremely happy. Hermione hoped his sudden inclination to join in conversations had something to do with her trying to talk help him earlier.

Hermione grabbed a grapefruit, paying special attention to slicing it exactly in half. Hermione silently worried that Ginny might say something about her lack of appetite and was greatly relieved when she hardly glanced in her direction, too busy on her brother's sudden improvement. Hermione slowly ate her breakfast, repulsed by every bite. She could have sworn she felt her clothes tighten.

When the bell signalled five minutes until the start of Arithmacy, Hermione gratefully dropped the remainder of the second half of her grapefruit and jumped up. The four of them headed towards their classes. Harry and Ginny turned a corner and walked off to Ginny's Potions class where Harry would kiss her goodbye and then have to sprint to his own class.

"So, Hermione-"

She knew where this was going.

"-where have you been lately?" Ron asked. "I hardly ever see you anymore, even at meal times. What have you been doing that's kept you this busy?"

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, you know this and that. Homework, head duties, keeping Malfoy in line, you know." The last was a lie. Malfoy was fairly good at not being a pain in the backside nowadays. "I don't always have time to get down for meals."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Malfoy does."

"That's because he never does any work!" she retorted.

She felt eyes burning into the back of her skull. Slowly, she turned her head, only to find the topic of conversation less than five feet away from her, in easy hearing range. She knew she was in trouble.

Before Ron could ask, Professor Vector appeared and Hermione was swept into the classroom.

Hermione poured her energy into the tasks Vector set them, doing her best to ignore her rumbling stomach and the looks she got from those who were close enough to hear them.

By break time, the sun had warmed up the grounds and nearly everyone was outside enjoying the abrupt change in weather.

"Miss Granger! A word please," McGonagall called from her desk.

Hermione waved Harry and Ron on, telling them that she'd catch up in a second.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione tried to think of what she could have done that would get her into trouble.

"This weekend is fine. For Hogsmeade," she added at Hermione's confused expression.

Everything clicked into place. "Oh, right. Sure. I'll tell Malfoy. Thanks, Professor. Is that all?"

McGonagall nodded and Hermione left to find her friends. She found them sitting in the sun against the outer walls of Hogwarts, sandwiches that they'd snagged from the Hall in hand.

"Do you think she's lying?" Hermione heard Ron ask.

"I don't know. She doesn't look too well. I'll ask her later. Don't worry," Ginny answered,

Hermione frowned and made a mental note to not be alone with Ginny. She walked over to her friends, plastering a smile on her face.

"Guess what?" she said before anyone asked. "We're going to Hogsmeade this weekend."

Harry looked up at her, shading his eyes from the sun. "Is that what McGonagall wanted?"

Hermione sat on the ground, her back to the sun. "Yep. I completely forgot that we'd organised that. I was so confused." She giggled.

"We? You mean Malfoy did do some work?" Ron asked.

Hermione's face turned sour. "I'm not sure if agreeing to a date for Hogsmeade is work exactly."

Ron shrugged.

Lunch was easier to deal with than breakfast had been, probably because she was already with people. Hermione watched as Ron and Harry shoved sandwich after sandwich into their mouths. Ginny followed suit, but with considerably less of each food. Hermione ate the salad of one of the sandwiches. Lettuce, carrot shavings, tomato, onion and cheese. She picked the cheese off and started on the lettuce. Ginny was watching her. She slid some carrot and tomato into her mouth. After two mouthfuls of that, she felt Ginny's gaze drop.

Dark Arts turned out to be a bit of a bludge, as Winston was late and hadn't prepared a lesson, so the class was spent pretending to defend themselves against each other while holding conversations. Near the end of the lesson, Ron had absentmindedly flicked his wand which spurted a purple liquid onto the table next to him, so the rest of their time had been spent trying to figure out how to clean it up, manually or with magic.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ran into Potions a few minutes late. Slughorn had just finished talking and had placed flask half filled with a thick bubbling, lime green liquid on a stand on his desk. Instructions appeared on the board

No cheating, this is a practise test.

Books are allowed.

The store room in open so use whatever you need.

You have until ten minutes to the end of the double.

Pages 53-55.

Hermione grinned. She was in her element. She followed her book's instructions step by step, hardly looking up from her cauldron. With twelve minutes left of the lesson, her potion was a slightly darker green than the one modelled. She slipped in an extra pinch of salt and watched the brew brighten to a near match of Slughorn's. While Slughorn collected everybody's flask Hermione filled her flask and corked it, a slight smile on her lips.

"Seems that I was wrong about your natural ability, Harry. It's not bad, but not as good as last year's performance," Slughorn berated.

Harry's potion looked like Hermione's had before she added the extra salt.

Slughorn didn't say a word at Ron's olive green potion.

Hermione joined the line at the professor's desk.

"Nice, Mr Malfoy." Slughorn placed Malfoy's flask with the others. "Mr Boot, it's good to see you've improved."

Boot shuffled back to his cauldron.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently while Theodore Nott handed in his flask and waited for Slughorn to comment. Slughorn examined the potion. It was bubbling and green, but not the same shade. He nodded and said, "Not bad, not bad at all."

Nott left the line and Hermione all but shoved her potion in Slughorn's face. He turned the flask around with an appraising smile on his face. Unstoppering it, he took a sniff and made a face.

"Putrid." Hermione's face fell. "It's perfect. Back to the top of the class, Miss Granger, I see. Well done."

She grinned and nearly ran back to her workspace.

"I told you that book would get you into trouble. Now Slughorn thinks you were cheating last year or something," Hermione said while clearing away her equipment.

Harry sighed. "And if I hadn't gotten it, I would never have won the Felix Felicis and gotten the memory and known about the horcruxes and killed Voldemort."

"That's where you're wrong. I would have won it, let you use some and it would have been the same." She picked up her bag and left the classroom with Ron and Harry.

"But the quiditch match; we would probably would have lost," Ron said. "Because of my confidence," he added quickly. "And I might be dead!"

Harry leaned in towards Hermione. "And we wouldn't be even. 'Confundus,'" he whispered, reminding her of the little trick she'd pulled to get Ron on the quiditch team.

She blushed and shoved him away with her shoulder.

She changed the subject. "Are you two going to do your homework now? I have loads to do,"

The two boys looked at each other. "Later," they answered.

Hermione huffed. "Typical. I'll see you at dinner."

She walked away before they had a chance to reply. When she stepped inside the common room, she found herself to be alone. Knowing it wouldn't be for long, she quickly vanished two slices of bread and the contents from a can of soup before dumping her bag in her room. Seeing as though she was already in private, Hermione lay down and did eighty sit-ups. Puffing, she climbed onto her feet and checked her clock. There was still an hour and a half until dinner started so she placed herself in front of the fire and finished off the 15 inch essay for Winston and read through two of the three chapters that Sprout had set them.

As the clock neared seven-fifteen she stood up, swaying. Evenings were the worst. She'd already used her energy and only by sheer will was she able to stay on her feet. And the support of every object in her way.

Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Ginny with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Lost track of time, sorry. I can't believe how much work I have to do! It's overwhelming." She shook her head, awakening her painful headache.

"I dunno 'ow you do id, H'mione," Ron said through a mouthful of food.

Ginny shuddered. "We don't necessarily _want_ to see your half eaten food, Ron."

Harry laughed, Ginny and Ron joining in, still excited for the boy's happiness. Their laughter sounded so real, so alive, that it made Hermione wonder if, for a moment, they'd forgotten about their losses. Then the sound drained away and the darkness of loss once again dimmed their eyes.

Hermione leaned against her door. Malfoy had been one staircase behind her and she'd had the feeling that he was going to bring up her earlier comment. She'd just had to avoid him, only going downstairs when he was gone.

The painting slammed shut and Hermione winced. He was definitely angry. She grabbed her Herbology text book and opened it to the last of the three chapters the class had been instructed to read and huddled under her blankets. She tried to read but her attention was focused on the sounds downstairs, waiting for Malfoy to leave.

Hermione ran down to the fire when she heard what she thought was the painting slam once again. She pulled the blanket off the couch and sat in her spot.

"So, I never do any work, do I?"

Hermione jumped and her book flew out of her hands. She turned to see Malfoy walking out of the kitchen and sit on the plush green armchair. She shuddered and pulled the blanket over her shoulders.

"I've only been helping make Hogsmeade dates, a patrol roster and organising Prefects to take your patrols while you weren't well. What is it exactly that you consider work? Sleeping all day in front of the fire or hiding in your room for hours on end? Or is it spending time with your dear old friends, Potty and the Weasels?"

Hermione stood up taking the blanket with her. "Before you start accusing me, why don't you get your facts straight!"

Malfoy got off his chair. "Oh, so now _I'm_ the one doing the accusing?"

"You listen to me, Draco Malfoy! I've hardly spent any time with my friends. I've been buried under homework, I'm exhausted and I'm sick! I only made up that stupid lie so they'd stop asking me why I wasn't-" She cut off, realising what she'd been about to reveal. She looked at the floor.

Malfoy stalked up to her. He was barely a foot away. "Why you weren't what? I need to know why you think I'm not doing my job. And don't lie to me, Granger. I've known you long enough to be able to tell."

"Why do you care what I think about you anyway?" She glared at him, looking right into his grey eyes.

"Don't change the subject. Tell me."

"I don't think it's any of your business," she retorted. Her attempts to get out of the situation were weak, she knew, but she couldn't come up with anything convincing when her head was pounding and she was swaying on her feet.

"I said tell me. I need a good reason to drop this."

It was obvious he wasn't going to let her go anywhere until she told him. "Why I wasn't going to meals." She stared at the carpet.

"And why did you have to lie about this?"

"Because they wouldn't have appreciated the truth."

"Don't you get smart with me, Granger. Why?"

There was no way that he was going to find out about her deepest, darkest secret. She dropped the blanket.

"You're going too far, Malfoy. Just leave it. You have no right to know everything about me." She made a dash for the stairs but Malfoy stepped in front of her, grasping her wrist.

"Don't you dare touch me," she hissed, jerking her arm away.

Instead of backing down like she'd hoped, Malfoy took another step forward. Their feet were touching and she could just smell the faint scent of his deodorant. She stepped back.

"Let me tell you something," he said taking another step forward. "You don't want to tell me what's going on, but you haven't thought this through. We," he gestured between the two of them, "live together. I'm going to find out what's going on, sooner or later. You have two options. The first is that, when I figure this out, I'll ruin your reputation. I know what it means to you, being Head Girl. I'd just slip in a few comments about your inability to perform tasks and there goes your little dream." He smirked at Hermione's horrified expression. "Or, you could tell me now and, if I think it's a sufficient enough reason, I'll keep quiet." He paused. "So, what's your decision?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What makes you so sure that you'll figure me out?" She took another step back.

Malfoy walked forwards. "I'm a good observer. I'll be watching."

Hermione walked back to her book and sat down, doing her best to appear unfazed, but inside her heart was pounding. She couldn't let him bug her. She had to remain calm and keep her normal routine. He wasn't going to reach her.


	8. Chapter 7

Hermione climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in a towel. Shivering, she dried off and dressed in front of the mirror in faded blue jeans and a grey long sleeved shirt. She pulled a thick woolly jumper on and a pair of white ankle socks and shoved her white canvas shoes on her feet.

Picking up her towel, she realised that her jeans were looser. All the restricting, exercising and fasting had paid off, even if it had made her absolutely exhausted all the time. Hermione smiled at the thought. That's what she wanted – no, _needed_ – the most right now. Something that set her apart from everyone else, something that made her special. But this had happened before. She'd lost weight, a good amount of it too, and had rewarded herself with food and had ended up on a week-long binge. She'd gained it all back. She sighed. But this time was going to be different because she was going to try her hardest to keep off the weight. There was no way that it was coming back.

Hermione met up with Ginny, Harry and Ron who were waiting to go to Hogsmeade. They walked down the main street and into the Three Broomsticks where they seated themselves at a booth. Madame Rosmerta walked over to take their order.

"Four butterbeers, thanks," Harry said.

"No!" Four sets of eyes darted over to her face.

"I mean, I'll just have water, sorry," Hermione smiled weakly, her face going red under the gazes.

Rosmerta raised an eyebrow, nodded then walked away with a swish of her robes.

Unable to stand being scrutinised by her friends, Hermione excused herself.

"Be back in a sec," Hermione heard Ginny say, before following her to the bathroom.

Hermione tried to hurry without looking suspicious so she wouldn't have to talk to Ginny.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked once the bathroom door shut behind them.

"What is it with everyone?" She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."

"Everyone? Who else has asked?"

Hermione hesitated. She wasn't going to be able to explain her conversation, if it could be called that, with Malfoy.

"No one. I'm just talking about the way you all look at me. I really am fine."

Ginny scoffed. "You hardly eat, you seem to have lost weight, you have bags under your eyes and you look even paler than normal," she said ticking each argument off on her fingers. "What is it? Are you having trouble sleeping or what? Too much homework?" Ginny's hand flew to Hermione's arm. "Is Malfoy doing something to you? Hermione, you can tell me anything."

Hermione kept her eyes on the mirror behind Ginny. There were bags under her eyes, but they were hardly visible. Ginny must have been searching for excuses.

"Malfoy hasn't done anything," she lied. His comment about figuring her out had made her restless. She hadn't had a good sleep since then. "I just have so much work to do all the time and I'm always worrying about it. You know me."

Ginny still didn't look convinced.

"And, well, what if there's still Death Eaters out there that want to get back at us? We don't know if we're safe. I'm sure the Malfoys won't do anything by themselves but what if Malfoy gets threatened again and pulls another stunt like last year?" A tear ran down Hermione's check and Ginny hugged her.

"I know." They broke apart. "I'm scared of the same thing. It could be Ron or George or even Mum or Dad next. And then there's Harry and you. It terrifies me. At least Percy, Bill and George are safe, since they live in the middle of nowhere, but-" she trailed off, tears streaking her face.

They hugged again, trying to reassure each other.

"Do you realise how unlikely it is? I mean, the only Death Eater that stayed was Bellatrix and your mum took care of that."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. We'll be fine, won't we? Come one, the boys will be wondering where we are."

They washed their faces and walked back to the table. Both Harry and Ron were on their second glass of butterbeer. Ginny snuggled in close to Harry and he put his arm around her, smiling. Ron looked away pointedly when they started kissing. And Hermione laughed at Ron's expression.

"Let's leave these two for a bit, Ron. Come on, we'll go to Honeydukes."

Ron and Hermione left for the lolly shop. Ten minutes later, Ron carrying a box of Berry Bott's Every Flavour Beans and a yellow Long-Lasting Lollipop and Hermione carrying a box of Chocolate Surprise to send to her parents, they left the store. They wandered around the town looking in shops but not buying anything else.

"Ron, its six o'clock already. We should leave," Hermione said when she noticed that very few students were still in Hogsmeade.

The warmth of the castle greeted them when they walked through the Entrance Hall and to the Gryffindor common room.

"Your turn, Ron," Hermione said. The two were playing Wizard's Chess at the table in front of the far window. They'd already played twice, Ron winning the first game, Hermione winning the second. She'd only played once before and that was as a rook in First Year.

Ron moved his last rook in front of Hermione's king claiming checkmate. Hermione grinned and used her queen to win the game.

"This game is easy," she said, relaxing in her chair.

Ron grinned back at her, his stomach grumbling.

"Dinner time," he announced while patting his belly. "Built in clock, here."

Hermione started to follow then remembered what she'd discovered earlier that day. She couldn't eat dinner; she had to keep losing weight. She faked a yawn.

"You know, I might go to bed." She yawned again. "'Night, Ron."

She left the common room, smiling at her old dorm mates. People looked at her curiously as she headed upstairs instead of down. Hermione hurried past them, eager to avoid their gazes.

Safe behind closed doors, Hermione let out a long sigh and ran a hand through her hair. Surely her friends were getting more suspicious as she continued to skip meals. She needed more excuses.

Hermione walked back downstairs to the fire carrying her Potions' text book, her journal, a quill and an ink pot.

_The past few weeks have been mad. Besides being unconscious for maybe twenty-four hours, I've got so much homework that I'm having trouble keeping up with it all and Ginny thinks something's wrong with me. It's so annoying. In a way, I wish no one would notice or care about me so much. This wouldn't be so hard if they'd go away. But I love them too much._

_Good news! I've lost weight! I could tell by the feel of my jeans. I have yet to climb onto a set of scales, though. I'm too nervous._

_Now the bad news. Malfoy promised to find out why I'm skipping meals and then ruin my reputation and stop me from being Head Girl! How dare he! And there's no way I'm taking him up on his other offer, to _probably_ keep quiet if I tell him now. Does he think I'm stupid or something?_

Hermione stopped writing and shoved the journal under her backside as Malfoy walked past. She watched him as he climbed the stairs then took out her journal the second his door closed.

_That was close. Malfoy nearly caught me writing. If he ever gets the chance to get his grubby hands on this journal, I'll never hear the end of it._

_I haven't had anything to eat today. Not a single calorie. I'm quite proud of myself, actually. Hopefully I can keep this up._

_Homework time._

She shut her journal, opened her Potions' book to Chapter 10: _Healing Potions_ and started to read. Halfway through the chapter, Malfoy walked downstairs. Hermione looked up at the clock. It was ten past ten.

"Where the hell are you going at this time of night?" she asked, incredulously.

Malfoy stopped walking. "I'll tell you when you tell me what you've been up to."

"I haven't been up to anything, you know. It's just your wild imagination making something up because nothing's happening."

"Oh, plenty's happening, you just have to know where to be."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Y-you're not-"

Malfoy's eyes turned into slits as he glared at Hermione. "No. Don't ever mention that again. My family was in danger."

"Well then what are you talking about?"

Malfoy walked over to where Hermione sat on the floor.

"Tell you what; if I show you where I'm going, you'll tell me what's going on. Deal?"

She hesitated. She needed to know where Malfoy was going and what he was doing. He could be lying as easily as she'd been recently. And lying was going to get her out of this sticky situation.

"Fine. Let me put all this away." She gathered her belongings and raced up to her room.

Downstairs again, Malfoy lead the way out of the common room and down to the dungeons. Hermione was exhausted.

"Why are we here? There's nothing here except for the Slytherins," she whined. "You could have just said that this was where you go. I don't want to watch you making out with your new girlfriend nor do I think that it's a good idea for someone like me to go in there."

"Who said anything about a girlfriend?" He flashed a wicked grin. "You're not going to leave my sight until you tell me the whole truth as to why you lied."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You are so annoying. Lead the way." It might buy her sometime.

Malfoy walked a little further down the hall and stopped, turning to face the wall. Quietly, he spoke.

"_Navis Oneraria."_

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Really? Who chooses these passwords?"

A small section of the wall, roughly the size of a door, moved backwards then slid behind the rest of the wall. A boy with brown hair who looked to be a fourth year greeted them.

The room was littered with Slytherins, mainly fifth years and above, but a few fourth years were scattered around, mainly doing jobs. In the corner on the left there were three desks that had been pushed together to form a bar and was surrounded by people waiting for drinks. The rest of the furniture had been pushed against the walls to form a dance floor that was crowded with students, some of them grinding against each other. Those were probably the ones that had drunk the most.

Malfoy walked over to the makeshift bar, Hermione following close behind.

"Look, I really, really, _really_ do not want to be here. Can't I go? I'll tell you tomorrow."

Malfoy held up two fingers to the blonde girl working the bar then turned to Hermione.

"Why don't you tell me now? It can't be that bad."

"I lied to my friends about this."

"True." He passed her a glass which she held tightly to stop her from shaking.

"Drink it. Maybe you'll calm down."

She sipped the liquid and gagged as it burned her throat.

"What is this? Straight vodka?"

Malfoy grinned.

"Why would anyone want to drink this?"

"Good for the nerves." Malfoy tipped his head back and drained his glass.

"You're kidding, right?"

He turned to the dance floor, leaving Hermione to fend for herself. She picked a quiet corner of the room and sat in it, trying to stay as small as possible. At least no one had come up to her.

She looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be having fun except for her, even the door boy, who was clearly there only to be accepted by the older students.

Over by the stereo four sixth years that Hermione didn't know by name, only by sight, were talking and pointing at Hermione. Hermione felt herself go red as they walked over.

"What are you doing here, mudblood?" spat the tall brunette.

Hermione stood up. "Why's it any of your business?"

"You're a Gryffindor and _this_ is a Slytherin party." She seemed to be group spokeswoman.

"Good observation skills. And here I was thinking that all Slytherins are stupid."

The girl glared at Hermione. "How did you get in here?"

Hermione stood on her toes to see past the girls, thinking that she may as well make this as miserable for Malfoy as it was for her. "See that boy over there?" She pointed at Malfoy who was sitting on one of the black leather couches, talking with Nott. "The blonde one in the black jeans and shirt. He brought me here."

All four girls glared at Hermione.

"Like we're going to believe that Draco Malfoy, who hates filthy little mudbloods like you, let you in."

"Oh, he didn't just let me in. He asked me to come." She looked at each of the girls, straight in the eyes. "Fine, go ask him. Maybe he wanted me to be killed tonight. Who knows?" she said cheerfully.

"Maybe you're right," the brunette said, pulling out her wand. Her friends followed suit.

Hermione whipped her own out.

"Just so you know, I'm older than you, I know more spells, hexes and curses, more dangerous one and I can perform them all perfectly."

She watched as they all lowered their wands.

"I'll be watching you, Granger," the girl said, spitting as she talked.

The group walked away and Hermione decided to get herself out in the open to avoid being cornered again. She ordered a beer and took a seat on one of the armchairs, looking up when Malfoy approached.

"Having fun?" he asked, resting against the arm of her chair, glass in hand.

She snorted. "Does it look like it?" she answered sarcastically.

"Want to leave?"

"Yes," she replied hopefully, sitting up.

"Going to tell me?" he asked, smirking at her expression.

"No," she said, falling back into her seat dejectedly.

Malfoy walked away.

Hermione looked away from him to the dance floor. If she'd been taken to a club she would have gotten up and danced. But since this was not a club and instead held a bunch of people that would gladly remind her of this day and every embarrassing thing she might do while under the influence of alcohol every chance they got, she stayed seated. She took a swig of her beer and nearly vomited at the feeling of alcohol on her empty stomach. And then she did vomit over the side of her chair when she remembered the calorie content of the drink. She placed the bottle on the floor and sank lower in her chair, trying to think why she'd stayed. She couldn't come up with any good excuses to let her off the hook with Malfoy so she huddled into a ball and closed her eyes. The pounding of the music, the vomiting and not having a meal in who knows how long were getting to Hermione. She felt dizzy and little black spots filled her vision.


	9. Chapter 8

A rush of cold enveloped Hermione.

"Granger."

Hermione blinked. There was a swaying figure in front of her,

"How much have you had to drink?" the figure asked.

Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't remember where she was.

"Granger!"

Her head snapped up and her vision cleared. It was Malfoy. Malfoy was standing in front of her and she was in the Slytherin common room. Why in the name of Merlin was she in the Slytherin common room?

"Answer me," Malfoy said angrily.

Suddenly, the whole night snapped back into place.

Unable to talk, she gestured to the bottle on the floor. Malfoy's nose scrunched. He must have spotted the vomit. Hermione smiled to herself.

"What's your problem? You've had nothing." He shook his head. "Maybe you should leave. Up you get."

Hermione shook her head and cleared her throat. "You'll make me tell you. I'm not going to do that." She touched her hair. It was wet. Why on earth was it wet?

Malfoy scoffed. "So you're just going to stay here your whole life?"

She put a hand to the side of her head. The music was still going and it was hurting. She ignored his question. "How long have I been out?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Can't have been too long. It's only midnight."

She nodded, regretting the action instantly, as it made her head spin and she sunk back into the comfortable chair.

"What are you doing, talking with her?" Zabini had joined them.

"Oh, great!" Hermione said sarcastically. "Let's all pick on Hermione Granger because she's a Muggle born. Eww! You people are so pathetic."

"Pathetic, hey? Let's see who's pathetic when we're done!" He reached for his wand.

"Seriously? Again?" She sighed and from the corner of her eye saw Malfoy's surprised expression. "I'm the best in our year at nearly everything. You cannot beat me. And I'm a girl, so have fun losing in front of all these people." Ignoring the stunned look on his face, she turned to Malfoy as she shivered. "Why is my hair wet?"

"I poured water on you head-"

"You did what?" she shrieked, standing up. The sudden movement caused her to sway and land back in the chair.

"You were out cold and I knew it'd wake you. I don't need to be accused of injuring anyone else."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, Crabbe and Goyle had joined the group.

"Yay! More friends!" Hermione said, with fake excitement. "Would you like to dance?" She batted her eyelashes.

Taking care not to get another head rush, she stood up and went to duck under Malfoy's arm which he had braced against the wall.

"I'm not done with you, Granger. Sit." Malfoy moved to stop her from being able to get away.

Hermione's plan for not being cornered hadn't worked. She folded her arms.

"What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I'll make you say it in front of everyone at dinner."

"That was not part of the deal," she said fiercely, but sat down anyway.

Malfoy grinned in triumph. "And that is why I think you'll listen to me."

"Blackmail," she scoffed. "Tell me, Malfoy, what is it that you'll do if I don't hold my end of the deal?"

"Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. But telling me now would hurt less." He paused. "Probably. Now it's my turn to talk. You're going to tell me. Now."

Hermione shook her head.

"Alright then. Here's a few questions. First off, why exactly do you want to keep this a secret?"

Hermione huffed. "They," she pointed at the small crowd around her, "are not listening in on this conversation. _That_ was part of the deal."

"Fair enough. Run along, boys."

Despite the glares at being treated like children, they left.

"Go on," Malfoy said.

Hopefully this would keep him off her back.

"I've kept this a secret because it's very personal to me. Not a single living person knows my secret."

"We're getting somewhere now." Malfoy perched on the arm of a nearby chair. "If no living person knows does that mean that someone who's dead does?"

"Possibly. But that doesn't mean that they're a ghost. They could be someone from the Muggle world. Good luck getting information from one of them."

Malfoy's face changed as he considered a new thought. "How personal is this? Girly personal?" he added.

"Why are you asking me this?" Hermione was horrified. Her face was hot and more than likely turning bright red.

"Is it?" Malfoy refused to give up.

"You are a sick boy. And not necessarily."

Malfoy sighed in relief and Hermione smiled at his discomfort.

"What's it to do with?"

Hermione was stumped. "I-I don't really know."

The look on Malfoy's face told her that he wasn't going to accept that as an answer.

"What do you want me to say?" she said exasperated.

"Okay, let's try a different question. Is it to do with someone other than you?"

Hermione considered the question finally answering with, "Yes. Are we done here? I want to go to bed."

"Hah!" Hermione jumped. "Far from it. Let's see. Who is this someone? Are they from the wizarding world? Or is it a group of people?" he tacked on as an afterthought.

Oh why, oh _why_ didn't she say it was a girly issue so he'd drop it?

"It's a group of people. Some Muggles, some witches and wizards."

"And who are they?"

Hermione flung her arms up in the air. "I don't know! Believe it or not, Malfoy, even _I_ don't know everything."

She stood up and headed for the door. Wall.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Hermione spun around to where Malfoy stood behind her.

"I'm leaving. Fuck the deal, fuck this stupid party and fuck you, you slimy git!"

She turned around, back to the door. Malfoy was following her. Behind her, a loud slap was quickly followed by a round of gasps from various corners of the room. Hermione ignored them and kept walking.

"You arse hole, Draco!" screamed a girl.

Unable to miss a scene where Malfoy was the victim, Hermione turned to watch.

"You cheated on me with _her_? The filthy mudblood, know-it-all, _Gryffindor_, Hermione Granger? What is your problem?"

A short blonde girl who, despite her height, was in sixth year, was standing mere inches away from Malfoy, yet kept up the high-pitched rant.

She picked up a handful of food from the nearest table and chucked it at him. Not satisfied with this, she picked up the platter and threw it. The group that had formed around the scene took a collective step back. The platter missed Malfoy and hit a suit of armour, knocking the helmet off. Everyone took a few more steps away from the screaming girl.

"I did not-," he was cut off by a hurt-looking Parkinson.

"You moved onto a new girl already? You don't waste any time, do you?"

The blonde girl stepped up. "It's been three months since we got together. Surely you can survive."

Parkinson's face turned a brilliant shade of red and Hermione had to stop herself from laughing.

"You cheated on _me_?"

Malfoy kept his face expressionless. Hermione had to admire that.

"You son of a _bitch_!" She grabbed an empty bottle and hurled it at Malfoy, which he neatly dodged.

"You lying, cheating, bastard!"

Parkinson punctuated each word by throwing whatever she could find, eventually using her fist. Malfoy caught her wrist before it hit him. Hermione smirked then instantly regretted it when she saw that Malfoy had spotter her. He was furious.

"Leave," he growled through gritted teeth.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "What, and miss all the fun?"

He turned his attention back to the two girls trying to fight him. He held Parkinson's arms, stopping her from chucking anything else and was using his feet to keep the other away.

"Meredith!"

Meredith, of course. Meredith Arquette.

"I did not cheat on you with Granger. Pansy, shut up."

Parkinson stopped her whimpering and Arquette calmed down for a moment.

"But you cheated on me with her, though," she said, pointing at Parkinson. "We're ov-"

Malfoy laughed, stopping Arquette in her tracks.

"You don't get to do this, I do."

She scoffed. "Oh, so you're dumping me, are you?"

"We weren't really together were we? But if that's what you want to call it, then yes, I'm dumping you."

Arquette broke down in tears and Parkinson started her little whimpering noises again.

"What is your problem?" Malfoy let go of Parkinson as he spoke and walked out of the dungeon, scattering the crowd as he went. Hermione scurried after him, eager to get out before either girl pin-pointed everything on her.

A whole month had passed since the party and Malfoy hadn't mentioned the deal. In fact, he hadn't said anything to Hermione unless it was absolutely necessary. She put it down to his reputation. A person with Malfoy's standing and reputation couldn't have people thinking that he was together with a mudblood, much less her of all people.

Hermione shivered and curled up in her seat. She'd taken one of the seats by the window in the library and was watching the last leaves fall. Autumn was nearly over and winter was making its claim.

The quiet of the library was calming. Besides the librarian, there were only two other people in the library.

Hermione picked up her journal which she had shoved between the cushions when Madame Pince walked by.

_This week has been miserable. Harry, Ron and Ginny are all practising for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game. I hate this time of year. They're always practising, practising, practising, so I've been stuck with Mr Embarrassed and no one to talk to. I guess I could talk to Luna or someone, but, I don't know, I guess I don't feel like being around anyone else. I just want my best friends back. _

_At least one good thing has come out of it. I've lost weight. I still haven't got a scale but I think it's more than a few pounds. I've got to be around 9st 4lbs by now. In just over a month. No one even notices if I eat anymore, not even Ginny. Mum might though, when I go down for Christmas. I should probably write to her, see if I am still going home. If she gives me an option I should say no. That way I'll get out of eating. Although, it is Christmas; I'm meant to be with family. But all that food! Agh! I'll have to give this some thought._

_This is my plan for tomorrow:_

_20 push ups and 30 sit ups when I wake up._

_Breakfast will be half an apple or a single slice of plain toast and a black coffee if I need it._

_I'll go for a run before lunch._

_Lunch will be 20 grapes._

_No dinner except for a green tea. Possibly._

Hermione closed her journal and rubbed her temples. It hurt to think.

An hour later, she was sitting outside, the cold wind chapping her lips.

Not many people were around, only a few first years who playing in the leaves and they respected her space and kept their games away from her.

She'd steered clear of all the trees and had taken a seat on the picnic bench that the fifth year Ravenclaws usually occupied. It was a nice spot, out in the open, the lake to the left and, to the right, the quidditch pitch.

Hermione rested her back against the table and watched the grounds of Hogwarts prepare for winter. The big oak tree by the first years gave a mighty shudder, showering the first years in leaves. She laughed to herself when the girls shrieked and the boys jumped in the fresh fall.

"Hello, Hermione."

She turned around to see Luna walking towards her. Her bright yellow combat boots, pink jeans and turquoise cloak stood out against the walls of the castle.

Trying to disguise her laugh, she greeted Luna.

Luna brushed away some leaves and sat on the other side of the table. "Have you been having fun living with Malfoy?"

Hermione snorted. "Fun? It's _Malfoy_, Luna. How could anyone have fun living with him? He's completely twisted."

"No," Luna shook her head. "I don't think so. He was protecting his family and I don't think that it means he's evil. I'd say it's honourable. He wasn't going to kill anyone. I'm sure you know this. It's just like what my father did. He didn't want to hurt Harry, Ron or you, but he thought it was the only way to get me back. I'm all he has left."

More fascinating things that Luna's said to go in her journal.

Her journal! She'd left it in the library!

"Luna," she interrupted whatever it was she'd been saying. "I'm really, really sorry, but I have to go. I left my-," she broke off. "I left something of mine out and I'm going to be in so much trouble. I have to go. Bye!"

Hermione jumped off the bench and made a dash for the library, flying through the door and over to her chair.

Her journal was sitting on the floor in what she hoped was exactly the same place she'd left it. Sighing gratefully, she shoved the journal in to her pocket.

Hermione stomped up the stairs to her dormitory feeling as though all her energy had been drained. Her heart was still beating too fast from her scare.

The sound of footsteps came from around the corner and a moment later Hermione was joined by Ginny and Harry.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "We were just, um, looking for you." She turned a brilliant shade of red and tried to put a bit of distance between her and Harry.

Hermione gave a weak laugh at her friend's obvious lie. Ginny went even redder.

"Don't worry. I've been busy. Homework, Head duties, you know." She gave another small laugh, this time to hide her disappointment. Neither of her friends seemed to notice.

"Where's Ron?" she asked.

Harry coughed. "Probably with Hannah."

Ginny elbowed him in the ribs and Hermione nearly choked.

"Hannah? Hannah Abbot, the Hufflepuff?" She shifted her gaze from Harry to Ginny who nodded.

"Right," Hermione said, pulling her jacket tight around her. "Well, I have to go."

"See you later," Harry called after her.

"Why'd you tell her that?" Ginny groaned once Hermione turned the corner Harry and Ginny had come from.

Hermione let out a shaky breath. _Why does it matter_, she thought. It wasn't as though she liked Ron in that way anymore. He's got just as much right to be with someone as anyone does. And he was looking so much better recently. The bags under his eyes had disappeared and there was a smile on his face nearly all the time. Maybe Hannah was doing him some good.

"Fluxweed," she muttered to the chipmunk in the painting. It swung forward and she climbed in.

The common room was empty so she hurried upstairs for her books and raced back down. She paused on the bottom step. Malfoy was sprawled on the couch, one hand holding his head as though he had a headache. She considered going back to her room before deciding that he wouldn't deprive her of the warmth of the fire.

She sat in front of the fire, completely ignoring Malfoy and started her Dark Arts homework.

Halfway through a question, an owl started tapping on the window. It definitely wasn't one she recognised and was far too clean to be a school owl, so she left it to Malfoy to let it in.

After a minute, Malfoy still hadn't gotten up so she went to let the owl in.

"I'm not your slave, you know," she said, closing the window behind the slightly bedraggled owl.

"Mhm."

As she'd expected, the letter was for Malfoy.

"It's for you."

"Mhm."

Hermione felt her blood boil.

"Stop it, okay? Stop acting like I'm here to cater for your every need. Stop ignoring me. We have a job to do and you are hardly helping anymore. Got it?"

"Mhm."

She threw her arms up, startling the large brown owl.

"This is what I mean! You- Ow!"

The owl had bitten her finger to get her attention. It stuck its leg out and Hermione irritably took the letter.

"Here's your stupid letter, you foul git." She threw the thick envelope at him and it landed on his face.

Malfoy turned his head a little, making the letter fall to the ground.

Hermione went back to her homework and ignoring Malfoy.

"Hah!"

Hermione jumped.

She glared at Malfoy who was now sitting upright, tearing his letter into tiny pieces. It fluttered to the ground and he stood up and left the room.

"I am _not_ cleaning that up!" she shouted after him.


	10. Chapter 9

Four equal parts of an apple sat on one side of Hermione's plate. The other side held the apple's peel and core. Hermione inspected her breakfast. She wasn't the only one watching, though. Ginny couldn't seem to decide between watching the food in case something happened, or Hermione. Her eyes flicked between the two but Hermione ignored her, and, once satisfied that the slices were definitely equal, she picked up one piece and started nibbling on it.

"Why do you do that, Hermione?"

She looked up at Ginny, who was sitting across from her, still casting glances at the food.

"Do what?"

Harry and Ron stopped shovelling bacon and eggs into their mouths to watch.

Ginny sighed. "The thing, with the apple- oh, never mind."

Ron looked at Hermione, who shrugged back innocently.

Ron and Harry went back to their breakfasts and discussing their latest quidditch tactics. Hermione tuned out, as she knew no one was going to need her advice on the sport.

As she finished her second apple slice, the sound of hundreds of owls filled the Great Hall and a school owl crashed into Hermione's untouched water goblet. Her name was printed on the envelope, so she took it from the grey owl who flew away after a running start, knocking over goblets as it left.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, who was now dripping with pumpkin juice.

"Hermione!" Ginny shrieked. "That's a howler!"

Hermione whipped her head around to see that the letter she was holding was indeed a howler. It started to smoke at the corners. She dropped it in her water, hoping that it would drown out the noise but it was just as loud as usual. A distorted voice yelled from the envelope.

"' _I feel like I'm falling further and further into an endless hole. Everyone else is at the top, not realising that there is a huge, gaping hope right near them. I wonder when they'll see it. Sometimes I don't want them to notice. I'll just fall quietly. Other times I want to scream, tell them they can still catch me. I haven't gone that far.'"_

The Great Hall was silent. Hermione stared at the burning howler, a look of pure shock and embarrassment covering her face.

"Who _was_ that?" Ron's distant voice crept into her ears.

_Those words,_ thought Hermione,_ they're so familiar. They- _

"Oh, crap!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from the table.

By the time she had reached the doors, Ginny, Ron and Harry had caught up with her and they were all running through the halls and up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Ron panted, trying to take in deep breaths.

"Common room," she said shortly. Hermione put on a burst of speed then slid to a stop outside the portrait hole. "Wait here."

"But-" Ginny started to say.

"No, just wait. If Malfoy's inside, this won't go too smoothly. I'll just be a minute."

Without waiting for a reply, she bounded into the common room and up the stairs to her room. She pulled her journal out from underneath her pillow and opened it. White, lined pages that seemed to be from an exercise book filled the journal. Hermione fell onto her bed. The covers had been switched. Who knew who had her journal! Hundreds of pages of secrets were now in the hands of a stranger.

The portrait slammed shut downstairs.

Maybe it wasn't a stranger.

Hermione stormed out of her room, journal in hand. She stopped on the stairs, directly in front of Malfoy and shoved the book into his face, showing him the pages.

"What did you do?" she half yelled.

Confusion was the only expression to register on his face.

"What do you mean?" His eyes were wide, looking about as innocent as the puppy that just ripped up all the toilet paper and pretended it wasn't him.

"Oh, so you're just going to pretend you don't know? Right, well, let me spell it out for you. See these pages?" She flipped the book open again. "They were filled with writing. Nearly this entire journal was filled with words. _My_ words. And now, they're gone. And surely you heard what happened down in the Hall.

"Wha- You think I did that? Yeah right, Granger. I'm not going to that much effort to bother you. It's just a waste of time."

He made to go around her but she blocked him.

"No, I don't believe that. Not the 'too much effort' bit. If you honestly think that I can trust you when you say you didn't do it, then you can't be thinking properly. So tell me, what did you do with my real journal?"

"Look, Granger. I didn't do this. I don't go around stealing people's journals and sending anonymous howlers to them. Think about it. It's a bit _girly,_ isn't it? A bit catty, bitchy, whatever. I didn't do it."

Hermione kept eye contact with him, watching for the slightest hint that he may be lying. She let out a sigh.

"Fine, Malfoy. That does make more sense anyway. Bye."

"Oh, Granger," Malfoy called when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Be sure to send my love to whoever did it," he said with a smirk.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said, death glaring him.

Hermione climbed out of the portrait hole into a deserted corridor. Assuming that her friends had been told off by a teacher to go to class, she felt free to let a tear dribble down her check from the humiliation of the incident. She took a deep breath and made her way down to the bottom floor. It wasn't until she was out the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that she remembered that she had no books with her other than her broken journal. She turned away from the classroom, careful not to be spotted and headed outside.

After a short walk, she ended up on Hagrid's doorstep. She knocked on the door, hoping that he'd be home.

The door opened a bit to reveal a large, hairy head.

"Hermione! What 'er you doing here? Shouldn't yeh be in class?"

She shook her head. "Can I stay here for a bit?"

Hagrid looked around. "Sure. Just don't go getting into trouble."

He opened the door wider to let her in, shut it behind her and poured them both some tea. Hermione sank into a chair and pulled her legs up. Hagrid set a drink in front of her and fell into the seat opposite.

"Where's Fang?" she asked, realising why it was so quiet.

Hagrid shrugged. "Outside somewhere. He was itchin' to get some air."

Hermione nodded. "Oh," and they fell back into silence.

"Is somethin' wrong, Hermione? The Hermione I know wouldn't miss out on class unless it was unavoidable An' even then she'd manage to make t' class."

Hermione let out a short laugh then took a deep breath and sat her mug down on the table. "I don't know, Hagrid." She said it so quietly it was a surprise anyone could have heard her. "I have to go. Thanks for the tea." She smiled weakly then stood up and left before she could be stopped.

She climbed back up to the castle just as the bell for the end of the first lesson went off. Harry walked around a corner, closely followed by Ron who had his arm wrapped around a content looking Hannah Abbot. Hermione ducked behind a pillar to avoid being spotted and interrogated, then, the moment they were out of sight, she sprinted back up to the common room.

Safe behind closed doors, she let out a sigh and sat on the couch. Tears streamed down her face. She threw the not-a-journal across the room and landed next to the fire. Suddenly, she stood up.

"That stupid, bloody, foul, brainless git!" She picked up an antique vase and threw it at the wall, where it shattered and ripped a painting of a lake. "When I figure out who did this-" She broke off and grabbed an empty candelabra and chucked it in the fire.

"Granger, what-" He broke off as he saw the destroyed décor. "What the hell are you doing?"

Hermione spun around and marched over to Malfoy. "You! I know you had something to do with this!"

"What? I didn't do any of this? Wait, are you still talking about this morning?" He paused. "I already told you that it wasn't me. Can't you believe me? Can't you trust me, just once?"

Her breathing slowed and she broke down in tears once again. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I know I'm being horrible. I just- I'm hurt. And I'm scared." She sagged against the wall.

Malfoy awkwardly patted her shoulder and turned to leave but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Will you help me get my journal back?" If Malfoy had been shocked before, it was nothing to how he looked now. "Please. All my secrets are in there. The reason I lied to my friends about you not doing any work, that's in there. I'll tell you what it is. Just please help me."

Malfoy paused to consider her offer. "It's a deal. You tell me the secret and I will help you."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "No, help me first, then I will tell you. How do I know you won't go and tell everyone and before I know it, I'll get another howler."

"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question.

"Give me a reason to trust you."

Malfoy looked at her. "Okay, fine. Journal first, and then secret. Where do we start?"


End file.
